Thirteen Coins
by AlmostCompleteStrangers
Summary: Stephanie goes 'in the wind' with Ranger. While evading the bad guys, Ranger is forced to face some demons from his past, and Stephanie makes a decision about her future. A first collaborative effort by JE fanfic writers: Sonomom & Latetolove.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Thank you for taking the time read our first story as a collaborative couple! We've been anxious to put this out here to share with our readers. It has been an amazing experience working together, and we hope you enjoy the result as much as we enjoyed the process. Read on, and don't hesitate to let us know what you think.

Latetolove & Sonomom

xxxxx

**Thirteen Coins**

**By: AlmostCompleteStrangers**

**Chapter One: The Distraction**

**Stephanie's POV**

The sliding door opened silently, and he stepped inside. "I've been shot. Not bad, but I'm bleeding. They'll be in this room inside of five minutes. They know they hit the target, and if they find out it's me, we're both dead."

I ran to him and saw blood soaking the back of his white shirt. "How bad is 'not bad'?" I asked.

"The bullet just grazed the back of my shoulder, but it's bleeding, and it's going to need some attention."

I made an instant decision. "If I buy us some time, can you get us out of here?"

He nodded.

"Okay," I said, brushing his hair away from his face. I ran into the bathroom and came back with two towels. "Peel off your clothes, all of them, and stuff them under the bed." He looked at me for a mere moment, and I saw the decision in his eyes. He was going to go with whatever I had in mind. His mouth was pulled into a tight line, and I knew the wound in his shoulder was worse than he was willing to say.

While he was undressing, I undressed too. I stood naked except for a lacy black thong. My luggage was still packed, and I opened the suitcase to pull out five-inch stiletto-heeled red pumps and slipped them on my feet. Then I turned to help a naked Ranger into bed. I slipped the towels behind his shoulder to form a pressure wedge between the sheets and his bleeding wound. I knelt on the bed and bent over Ranger with my lace-flossed ass pointing directly at the door and pulled the sheets loosely over us, making sure my attributes were uncovered.

"Babe?"

"Let me do this, Ranger," I said. "I can pull it off." I ducked my head under the sheets and heard Ranger's softly indrawn breath as my lips came close to the juncture of his thighs. "Did you get the information?" I asked.

"Yes, but they don't know that and won't until tomorrow, when their systems come back online."

I heard a shuffling outside the hallway door and once again heard his softly uttered "Babe."

The sound of the door unlocking and swinging open caused a seizure-like shudder to rack my body_. "Time to get your game on,"_ I told myself, my breath caressing Ranger's thigh. I felt a response from Ranger and realized he was responding physically to my nearness. That would help with the scenario I had planned. Men's bodies were amazing. They could be ready for sex even in the face of death. Ranger lifted his head, and as I pulled my head out from under the covers I saw his look of dazed confusion. Either he was a good actor, or he was dazed and confused. Either way it worked for me. I slid off the bed and turned to face the men standing in the doorway.

Their first look into the room had been focused on my ass, legs, and the red pumps. My breasts led the way as I stepped toward them. My nipples were distended from the cool air and fear. I was hoping they'd think it was from passion. I could see both of their gazes linger first on my chest, and then run down my abdomen to the thong. I saw the man with the gun slide his eyes from me to the bed. I turned and looked. There was no sign of blood on the sheets. Ranger's mid-section was covered by the sheet and, sure enough, there was a tent pole.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked, exuding as much Jersey girl attitude as I could. I ran my hand through my hair pushing it off my face and stood legs spread, hand on hips. "And who are you?"

The man standing closest to the door answered, "We received a message of an abduction going on in this room. We came to make sure our guests weren't in danger."

I turned to look at Ranger and then back toward the door. "This is a little awkward," I said. "Could you come in and shut the door behind you? It appears we have a situation here. And could you lower your weapon?" I asked the man in front. I took a good look at the man standing behind him. "I know you."

He nodded his head in acknowledgment that we did know one another.

"Mr. de Franco, I believe you and I last spoke when Joe Morelli and I were guests at your cocktail party. Joe told me you had a controlling interest in this resort, and some impish spirit made me choose this resort as the spot for this little liaison."

Jolie de Franco stepped in front of his henchman. "Ah, Ms. Plum. Forgive me for not immediately recognizing you, and my apologies for our untimely entrance."

Ranger leaned forward resting his weight on his injured shoulder. There was no evidence on his face of the pain it cost him. I looked quickly to make sure there was still no sign of blood. He leveled his gaze at the man with the gun. "Put your weapon away and then leave." It was a command punctuated by the glock Ranger pulled out from under the spare pillow. The gunman turned toward his partner for instruction.

I moved toward the men making sure their eyes were focused back on me. "Let's not be coy, gentlemen. We all know what's going on in here, and I'm making no apology for it. You, however, should. And we'd like our room comped for this unwarranted intrusion of our privacy."

"I assure you my resort will maintain your confidence. I understand the importance of Mr. Morelli not hearing about this meeting. I am so sorry for the confusion." Jolie, lying bastard that he was, was smooth. His eyes never left my chest as he said, "Of course, your entire stay here will be on me, and no one will ever hear of this unfortunate occurrence."

"Especially when Mr. Morelli, my very close friend, thinks I'm spending the week with an old college roommate. And especially when Mr. Morelli hates Mr. Mañoso's guts. Now gentlemen, if you don't mind," I swung my mostly naked ass around them and held the door open. "Mr. Mañoso and I have, um, urgent business." Jolie de Franco grabbed my hand and pressed it to his lips, his eyes still focused on my bare breasts. I looked at his hand noting the ostentatious gold ring on the middle finger. It was in the shape of a crown with a row of emeralds wrapping around the base. The prongs of the crown stretched almost an inch up his finger, and each point was set with a diamond. I felt an instant sense of revulsion, knowing the ring had been funded by de Franco's criminal activities, and struggled not to shudder.

"Once again, my apologies, to you and," he looked across the room toward Ranger whose expression now was more pissed off and less confused, "my apologies to you, Mr. Mañoso." They left, and I closed the door behind them, slinging the security bolt closed. It was time to find out if the pissed look was for their benefit or if Ranger was mad at me.

With the closing of the door, Ranger fell back on the bed. His face showed only the strain of hiding his pain. He looked at me and uttered a soft, "Babe."

"It worked," I told him. "They're gone. Do you think they'll be back?"

"Yes," he said, "but you've bought us some time. We need to get out of here." He was up and out of the bed and totally back in control. He pushed the sheet aside and went to the closet where he pulled a first aid kit from his luggage. "This wound is going to have to be attended to. Are you up to it?" I nodded and followed him into the bathroom.

He sat on the commode and turned his back to me. "Try to keep the blood on the towels we've already used. We're going to have to get rid of anything with blood contamination. They can't know I was the one in his office."

I looked at the wound. It was a six-inch gash, and it probably needed stitches, but steri-strips were as good as it was going to get. I cleaned the blood off and pulled the flesh together holding it in place with the pieces of tape placed perpendicular to the cut. I spread a generous amount of antibiotic ointment over it and covered the entire area with a bandage. Fortunately it was his left shoulder as his right hand was his gun hand.

"Did you leave a blood trail to the room?" I asked.

"No." He grimaced as I ran my hand over the bandage to smooth it out before I handed him a black t-shirt to slip over his head. "I was careful. There was blood in the office, but I tucked my shirt in and pulled my jacket around my shoulders. And I didn't take a direct route back to the room. That's why they were here so quickly after my arrival."

Ranger stood and faced me with the t-shirt dangling from his left hand. I became aware he was totally, and I was mostly, naked. He pulled me against him and wrapped his good arm around me. His lips met mine in a kiss that was intense and passionate. I felt the warmth start in my core and move up. My breasts flushed and my nipples stood at attention, and this time fear wasn't the motivating factor. Once the immediate threat of death was gone, women could, apparently, think about sex, too.

"You did a good job," he whispered in my ear. "They knew they hit someone in the office, and I know they thought it was me, but I think you changed their minds." He kissed me again, this time softly.

Ranger pulled back. "Morelli didn't let you sign on for this." Shit, Morelli! I'd totally forgotten his existence. He and I were very much together; the only difference from what I told de Franco was Joe's awareness of my location. He hadn't wanted to let me come, but he knew it was the best option. Ranger needed a believable cover to pull this off, and I was the one who made it believable. Ranger's hand slipped down my backside and fondled a bare cheek. He sighed, "This isn't the time for this."

"Well, you started it," I said defensively.

"I did," he agreed, "but you surprised me with your quick thinking. You saved us, Babe. You saved us in a real good way." I looked up to see him smiling at me.

"Now, get out of those shoes and get dressed," he said, suddenly completely oblivious to my nudity. "Wear warm clothing and a jacket. We're going for a midnight hike in the mountains. It will be cold, and we will be hiking for more than a day. We're not returning here, but I don't want it to look as though we've left for good."

The next few minutes were spent dressing and filling my purse with the contents of the mini-bar. We left enough personal possessions to make it look as though we were still occupying the room. Ranger rolled his blood stained clothes and the towels into a small bundle, which he placed in the bottom of a small bag. Fortunately there'd been no blood on the sheets. We only had to take a pillowcase, the towels and his shirt.

Ranger looked around the room as he stood by the sliding door. As I crossed the threshold to leave the room with him, he pulled me to him.

"Babe, you were right. We do have urgent business," and he pulled me to him for another quick hard kiss. His voice was soft and low, and he was all business. "What we've been through tonight is nothing compared to what we may be going through in the next couple of days. We have to hike through the mountains to get to a safe place, and we will be moving mostly at night."

"Will I have to eat twigs and berries?" I asked.

There was a hint of a smile playing around his mouth. "If you deplete the mini-bar stash, then yes, you may have to eat a few berries."

I sighed. "Lead on, Batman, but you're going to owe me cake when this is done."

He turned to me all seriousness. "Babe, a lot of people will owe you more than cake when everything is said and done, and Morelli is one of them."

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The response to Chapter One has been so encouraging, we are posting Chapter Two the same day! From this point on we plant to post on Tuesdays and Fridays. As always we are just borrowing Janet Evaovich's wonderful characters. If there was anyone we missed thanking for their reviews it was unintentional or impossible. The reviews are greatly appreciated.**

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Two: On the Road**

**Ranger's POV**

If I had done this mission with anyone but Stephanie, things would have gone like clockwork, no hitches. She wasn't even responsible for the wound on my shoulder. That was all on me. I had let myself become distracted. My men lovingly joked that you have to add in the 'Bombshell Factor' with any mission or takedown involving Stephanie. Although she was never directly accountable for the one thing that went wrong, she was frequently the one to resolve and correct the issue. She had done that tonight. Nothing went according to plan when my Babe was along for the ride. We were used to it and had actually become better for it. We had learned to expect the unexpected, and all of my men and I had sharper skills because of it.

Once we cleared the city by moving through a pre-determined route of alleys and backstreets on foot, Stephanie and I reached the untraceable vehicle that Hector had left for us behind an old abandoned farmhouse on the outskirts of town. The keys had been securely tucked under the rear bumper, and it had a full tank of gas. With my injury, our original extraction plan was no longer viable, but I had a new strategy.

"You better take advantage of the facilities," I nodded at the small, barely standing outhouse behind the main house. "It's the best you'll see for the next twenty-four hours."

Stephanie turned to look at the focus of my suggestion. "You've got to be kidding me! I can't go in there it's…it's…"

"It's the Ritz, Babe. After this it becomes…more primitive."

"MORE PRIMITIVE!" she shouted, and then she scowled at the dilapidated structure. She looked like she wanted to continue the rant but stopped and thought for a moment. A look of resolution appeared on her face. "Fine! I'll use it. And then I just won't eat or drink for the rest of the trip." She took several purposeful steps in the direction of the outhouse, but as she got closer, her determination faltered, and her steps slowed until she came to a complete stop just a few feet from the door. She gave a tentative look back at me, took a few more steps, and gingerly opened the door as if, like a house of cards, it would collapse under her touch. She peered inside. "Shouldn't you tether me or something? You know…just in case…"

"Babe," I said with a sigh, pointing to my watch.

"Okay, okay, I'm going, but if this whole damn thing goes down that hole and takes me with it,"—she pointed a finger at me—"you better save me!"

Less than a minute later she returned looking none the worse for wear, but grumbling something about spiders, a near death experience, and how it had better be one hell of a multi-layer cake for her to put up with this.

Stephanie climbed into the passenger seat, and I started up the car. She looked around the interior and leaned over the seat to grab a small duffel bag she spotted lying on the floor in the back.

"Guess I won't need to resort to those twigs and berries after all." Her smile was similar to one I had seen a million times when she would open the white bakery bag from the Tasty Pastry. "Hector loves me!" She displayed two bottles of Coke and multiple packages of various snacks stored inside. "For a gay man, he certainly knows how to put a smile on a woman's face." She continued to dig. "Oh, look! He loves you, too." She pulled out a bag of baby carrots, two apples and several energy bars. "There are also bottles of water in here. Your temple is safe, Ranger."

Stephanie carefully repacked the bag and added it to the pile of meager luggage we had managed to carry with us from the resort.

"What happened to your resolution to not eat or drink again?" I asked her, not trying to hide the grin on my face.

Stephanie looked up with a guilty expression. "Well, I've been giving that some thought. Maybe I was a bit rash with my decision. I mean…have you met me? We'll be lucky if this lasts us twenty-four hours." She looked me straight in the eye and waved her hands to amplify her point as she continued. "We just traipsed half way across the city, and we're getting ready to hike the Venezuelan Outback! The exercise alone is going to require at least double my calorie intake, not to mention the…." She hesitated as if she was embarrassed that she had almost let the thought verbally escape, and she turned away from me. "Let's just say I'm really going to need this sugar."

I decided to let the comment go. I wasn't so far from needing the sugar myself, and it was going to be a long twenty-four hours alone with her in the wilderness. "We'll only be on the road for a couple of hours, Babe. Why don't you try to get some sleep? Once we hit the mountains, the rest of the trip is on foot."

"Do you think we were followed?" She nervously looked back out the rear window.

"No." I could feel the sly grin building on my face. "You were pretty convincing back in the room. I don't think de Franco thought anything short of an atomic blast was going to make me leave that bed for the next several hours."

"But you did," she sighed, and I swore it held a hint of regret. She reclined the seat back slightly and settled herself to get some rest.

"Yeah," I forced my response to tightly conceal my own disappointment. "Duty called."

I could feel Stephanie's gaze focused on me as I navigated the narrowing dirt and rock-laden roads leading us away from San Cristobal. Eventually her eyes became so heavy they closed, and I knew she would remain in sleep until I was forced to wake her for the rest of the journey.

I didn't have any trouble staying awake for the two-hour drive. Every pothole and rocky bump sent shockwaves of pain through my shoulder. I was going to need a bandage change before we started up the mountain, but I knew once we reached the monastery, Armando would take care of it. His medical skills were as good as Bobby's, if not better, and he had saved my life before.

I skirted the city of Merida and took a series of winding trails that led us up into the foothills of the Andes Mountains. It was well after midnight when we reached the point where the car was going to be useless. I thought about letting Steph sleep a little longer, but we really needed to move as much as possible under cover of darkness. Jolie de Franco had resources that could make our escape difficult. He had eyes everywhere. He was the Venezuelan equivalent of Don Gotti. Everyone knew the kind of money he had and the power he wielded. It would be imperative to avoid running into any of the locals. The reward for bringing de Franco information on our whereabouts would be more than a year's income to a family living in one of the remote villages we would be passing through. Surrounded by such acute poverty, I couldn't blame any man or woman for taking advantage of an opportunity to provide more for their family, regardless of the moral implication.

I pulled far off what was considered to be the main road and parked the car in a heavily forested weald that would camouflage the evidence of our escape. I then took the opportunity to gaze at Stephanie a moment longer. She was beautiful in a way I found hard to describe with words. Awake, she was full of fire and stubborn self-determination. Asleep, like she was now, she looked like an angel, and I marveled at the unlikely idea that God had thought me worthy enough to have sent her to save my wicked soul.

Her body must have sensed the lack of movement, and she slowly opened her eyes. She looked a little disoriented, so I brushed her cheek with a single finger. "Oye, La Bella Durmiente. Hora de levantarse."

She stretched her arms out in front of her and scooted up in her seat with a yawn. "It's way too late for me to even try to interpret that, Ranger."

"Sorry, Babe. Spending all this time in South America has me slipping into Spanish more frequently. I said, 'Sleeping Beauty, it's time to go'."

Stephanie looked out the windows as if trying to pierce the darkness. "Where are we?"

"About ten miles outside of the city of Merida."

"Where do we go from here?"

"Up."

Stephanie changed the bandage on my shoulder, and we gathered our bags and headed away from the car and up the mountain. The terrain wasn't too bad at first, but, as we climbed, the path became steeper and the air thinner and cooler. After little more than an hour, Stephanie's conversation deteriorated from a steady stream of random discourse, to intermittent questions and comments, to non-existent, and I knew she needed a break. We settled on a rock that still held some warmth from the day's sun.

"Are you okay?" I asked as she dropped her head between her legs.

"I'm fine. Just a little winded."

I handed her a bottle of water. "You need to stay hydrated. It's going to get tougher, and we have a long way to go."

She took a long drink of the water and followed it with a few deep breaths. "You've been very secretive about our destination. In every one of the strategy sessions we had about this mission, there was always a big, fat...blank when it came to this point in our plans. Why?"

"If it bothered you, or if you were concerned, why didn't you ask about it in the meetings?"

"Because I trust you, and if you were keeping it quiet, I figured you had a good reason."

"Do you still trust me?"

"Of course I do. You know that."

"Then why are you asking now?"

"Because we're going there now!" Her exasperation was clear. "Unless you plan to drop me off the next cliff, I'm going to know eventually. I just assumed that you never said anything before because we were always surrounded by some of Trenton's finest and that bastard Higgins from the DEA." Stephanie stood abruptly and her tone became indignant. "But if you feel the need to keep it from me, too, then fine! Let's go. I'm rested."

"I'm sorry, Babe," I said with real regret, as I grabbed her hand to stop her from walking away. "Sit down."

Stephanie sat back down but didn't look at me. She was pissed.

"I'm not shutting you out on purpose. Where we're headed now was not part of my original exit strategy. The shooting has changed things. I've never told anyone about this place. I've…protected it…for years, and it's hard to give that up." I was still holding her hand and began to rub my thumb over her knuckles.

She softened slightly. "What's so important about this place that you have to keep it a secret?"

"It's not _what_, Babe, it's _who_." I took a drink from my own water and continued. "We're headed to a monastery."

"A monastery? Way up here?" she questioned.

"It's a remote monastery called Nuestra Señora de los Andes - Our Lady of the Andes. The brothers who live there are very unique. They're from a strict order of Cistercian monks called Trappists, and they live in near seclusion from the secular world. They live a very simple life and strive only to get closer to God."

"Why are we going there?"

"Well, for one, we'll be safe. The locals, who know about the abbey, respect it…and the privacy of the monks who live there. Even if someone saw us enter, we would not be bothered. It's about the only place in Venezuela that the hand of Jolie de Franco doesn't reach."

"If the monastery is so private, why would they allow us to be there?"

"I know them well, and they'll help us."

"How the hell do you just happen to know a group of monks in a remote mountain top monastery in Venezuela?"

"Babe."

"Don't _Babe_ me, Ranger," Stephanie said with a bit of amusement in her voice. She stood and began to gather the bags. "This sounds like it could be a very interesting story. We'll start walking, and you start talking."

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

*****.***.*****

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Three: Let Me Take You Higher**

**Stephanie's POV**

It was dark. So dark I couldn't really see the expression in Ranger's eyes. Wait, this was Ranger. There probably was no expression in his eyes.

"Stephanie, we have a long way to go tonight. We need to sleep during the day tomorrow, and stay hidden. It may seem like we are miles from civilization, but there is a good possibility people are looking for us. There is a safe place we can stay, but it will require at least three more hours hiking up the mountainside in the dark. Are you up to it?"

I shivered slightly. The temperature was dropping. I had no idea what elevation we were at, or how high we had to go to reach the monastery. I took a deep breath and turned toward Ranger.

"I'm up to it, but what about you? Your shoulder is still seeping blood. Are you up to it?"

"This isn't the first time I've climbed this mountain with an injury. I can get us to safety if you can keep up. When we make it to the place where we'll spend the daylight hours tomorrow, I'll tell you the story of how I came to know Dom Armando and the rest of the monks."

I held my hand out to him. "Lead on."

He took my hand in his and turned his back to me. He placed my hand under the waistband of his cargos and said, "Hold on, and when you need to rest let me know." And then we started walking. Ranger had packed our provisions, my purse, and our meager gear into the duffel. The handles became improvised backpack straps, which were wrapped over my shoulders. It added some weight, but I wasn't going to complain. If I did, I knew he would take it from me, and I was sure it wouldn't be good for his shoulder.

We climbed steadily, and I tried to concentrate on what was directly in front of me. I kept hearing things, and I didn't want to know what they were. Were there bears in these mountains? Did birds swoop down on unsuspecting climbers in the middle of the night? The Burg had given me the life skills I needed to survive in Trenton. The skills I needed to survive this mountain climb were packaged nicely in a black t-shirt and cargos and moving up the slope in front of me.

Ranger stopped abruptly, and I slammed against him. He turned and whispered, "Deer." For a brief moment I thought it was an endearment, and then I heard a rustling to the side of us. I couldn't see them in the dark, but I could sense their presence. I tried to take my courage from Ranger. He was in his zone. Surely he wouldn't be in his zone if we were in danger of being a midnight snack for some of the local fauna.

I refocused my concentration on what was directly in front of me. I felt the burn in my thigh muscles and wondered if he felt a burn in his. The darkness made it necessary to stay close, hence my hand curled in the waistband of his pants. I visualized the contraction of his thigh muscles with each step forward he took. Even weakened by the gunshot and blood loss, he was a machine. Relentlessly, he put one foot in front of the other and continued the climb. I wasn't going to wimp out on him. I focused on imagining the ripple of his muscles as he found a safe pathway for us.

This was Ranger in Rambo-mode. I knew he had survived in the jungle and, maybe, he had survived on twigs and berries. I uncurled my fingers and stretched them for a moment and realized I felt no band of underwear. I recurled my fingers and tightened my grip on his waistband. He was commando. I felt warmth begin to spread through me. I needed to get a grip on my emotions. Not that long ago I'd had my face in his very naked crotch. Why did the thought of a commando Ranger fill me with such warmth and longing? I realized I was panting.

"Stop," I gasped. "This isn't going to work. I need to walk next to you, or in front of you. You can guide me in the direction I need to go." Ranger pulled me next to him and wrapped his good arm around me.

"Time for another break?" he asked.

"Yes, just for a moment. I feel warm and a little dizzy." He took the backpack from my shoulders and pulled out a bottle of water. He took a long swig and then handed it to me.

I shook my head, "I'm not thirsty."

"You need to stay hydrated, Babe."

"I'm fine. I was just a little flushed, but I'm feeling better now."

"Do you need to pee?" he asked.

"No."

"Then you need to drink. I don't think we're high enough for you to be suffering altitude sickness, but the elevation here is at least a mile higher than you're accustomed to. Now drink." He handed me the bottle, and I upended it and drank until it was empty. It wasn't altitude sickness that made me dizzy. It was Ranger, commando.

"Babe."

Thinking out loud was a habit I needed to break. Ranger reached for the waistband of his pants and started to pull his zipper down.

"What are you doing?" I exclaimed.

"Peeing." I swung around and stared sightlessly down the mountainside. I put my hands over my ears. Before long, I felt Ranger's hand on my arm turning me back toward him. I could see the 200-watt smile, and I became aware of a slight lessening of darkness.

"It is morning?" I asked.

"Soon," he said. "We only have about an hour's more time to climb and then we'll rest for the day. We are more than halfway there, so we'll arrive in the middle of the night, tomorrow, and that's good.

"Do they know we're coming?"

"No, but we won't be turned away."

"When we stop for the day, will you tell me about Dom Armando?"

"Yes." He slipped his good arm in mine, and we continued our climb side-by-side.

Just when I thought I couldn't take another step, Ranger stopped. He stood still for a moment and pointed toward a large flat rock. "Sit here for a moment. I'm going a little deeper into the forest. I won't be gone long."

"Is it safe here?" I couldn't help myself. I didn't want to whine or complain, but the question slipped out.

"Yes," he said softly. "You're safe here. I'll only be gone a short while. I think we're isolated here, but try to be as quiet as you can." And he was gone. I didn't see or hear him. I was alone. After a few seconds I decided to use the opportunity he'd given me. I moved alongside the large rock and proceeded to empty my bladder without Ranger surveying the entire process. I'd never been a girl scout, but I'd been to a few keg parties during my college years, and I was capable of getting the job done without peeing on my shoes.

I sat on the rock and stretched my legs, rotating my feet in slow circles. I already ached from the physical exertion of the climb. What would the next day bring? I realized the duffel was missing, but Ranger had left food setting in its place. There were a couple of snack packages and one of the bottles of coke. The labels were all in Spanish, but they looked damn close to TastyKakes, and cake was cake in any language. They tasted good. Suddenly and without warning, Ranger was sitting next to me on the rock.

"I thought I knew where we were," he said. "I just wanted to make sure. We are about three quarters of the way to the monastery, but we can't make it any farther now. There is a cave where we can hide ourselves until we can move again under cover of darkness. It will be safe for us to sleep there."

"A cave?" I said astounded. "I'm sleeping in a cave? Will there be bears, or snakes? Girls from Jersey don't do caves!"

"Babe." He sounded weary, and I at once felt guilty about my small outburst. Sighing, I got up and hefted the backpack onto my shoulders.

"Lead on," I told him.

The cave was little more than a shallow divot in a wall of rock, extending back about eight feet. It was easy to see it was empty and relatively clean with a smooth floor. The entrance was protected by another outcropping of rock that made the opening all but invisible. As we approached the entrance, the sky was beginning to lighten, and I saw the cover of forest was much less dense. I understood the necessity of walking in the dark to avoid being seen.

"It will get hot as the sun rises higher in the sky," Ranger said. "Take off your jacket, and you can use it for a pillow. We both need to get some sleep."

"Alright," I said, "but I want to look at your wound first. We have some more antibiotic salve I can spread on it, if need be." Ranger pulled off his t-shirt and sat on the ground. A small mag-lite appeared mysteriously in his hand and he shined it over his shoulder to light the bandaged area. His quick acquiescence made me wonder if his wound was more serious than he'd led me to believe. Butterflies tumbled in my stomach as I removed the bandage to take a look.

The skin I had steri-stripped together looked swollen and it felt warm to the touch. "I think there is the beginning of an infection," I said as I squeezed a line of ointment down on top of the split skin. I tried to avoid touching the area as I had no way to clean my hands and I didn't want to further risk infecting him.

"Armando will take care of it," he said as I replaced the bandage. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"Speaking of Armando," I said. "Don't you have a story to tell me?"

"I do," he said. I rocked back on my knees and waited for him to pull his t-shirt back on.

"Hold this," he said, offering the small flashlight to me. He opened the backpack and removed a small foil package. I watched as he unfolded it, and I saw it was a thin solar blanket. The floor of the cave was mostly flat and free of debris. He spread the blanket out on the ground and placed my folded jacket at the edge to use as a pillow. Motioning to me to join him, he settled down on his good side, his back against the wall in true Ranger fashion.

I laid down on my side and let Ranger pull me against him. I heard a soft groan and once again thought maybe his injury was more severe than he'd let on. His voice was low and throaty, and his breath tickled my ear as he began his story.

"It was the first time I'd been sent to Venezuela. I came into the country alone, and my mission was to take out one man. I was successful, but I was caught in crossfire and wounded. Armando was visiting his family in the village at the time and saw me. I was hit when I made myself a target to pull gunfire away from an area where small children were cowering in terror."

I turned around and faced him. "You were hit? Was it serious?"

"Yes," Ranger said. "I'd have died if it weren't for Armando and…" he hesitated, "… another villager. Armando was a novice at the monastery, and he knew unless he helped me out of the village I'd be left to die. We climbed the mountain, and by the time we reached the monastery, I was very ill. I don't remember much, but for several weeks the monks nursed me back to health under Armando's direction. He is a trained medic who could give Bobby a run for his money. He was a member of Ejército Bolivariano, the Venezuelan army, before he made his profession of vows at the monastery."

I reached up and caressed the side of Ranger's face. "Did I know you then?" He shook his head. "You could have died, if not for Armando, and I would never have known you." My eyes filled with tears. Ranger's lips descended on mine in a gentle kiss meant to comfort. I returned his kiss as desire slammed me with such force I forgot to breathe. He rolled over on top of me and stretched his legs over mine. I felt his arousal pressing into my abdomen, and I moved my legs to accommodate him. The gentleness was gone from Ranger's mouth, replaced by a demanding passion. Then as suddenly as it started it was over.

Ranger rolled off me and said, "This will make things difficult with the cop, Babe. It can't go any farther until we're out of this mess. We need Morelli's cooperation to get de Franco off the streets once he's back in Trenton."

"Morelli?" I said. My mind was reeling with the sudden change in Ranger's demeanor. The passion was gone, and he was back to business. I'd forgotten, again, of Joe's existence. My control was as non-existent as Ranger's was legendary.

"I stayed for several months," Ranger said, continuing the story of his time at the monastery. "As I healed, I adapted to the lifestyle easily. They have a simple diet and live quiet lives of meditation. When I was sufficiently healthy in both body and mind, I told Armando it was time for me to leave. I contacted my handler and made arrangements to leave the country. I had been presumed dead. Armando drove me to my contact point, and I left the country successfully."

"Armando drove you?" I asked. "How is that possible?"

"There is a road to the monastery. It's a simple drive from Merida."

"Then why are we hiking up a mountainside when you are wounded and need attention?" I asked. "Why didn't we just drive to the monastery?"

"Babe, de Franco has tremendous power. I'm sure by now they've discovered our deceit, and there is reward offered for our capture. We will be protected at the monastery, but no one should see us arrive there. If we can keep from being found out, de Franco will be powerless to harm us. Once he's back in Trenton, he'll be arrested. I was able to send the information straight to Trenton from the computer in de Franco's office. It's probably in the hands of the DEA now."

"We'll stay at the monastery until the heat is off and we can get back to Trenton safely," he continued. "And, Babe, there's more. You will be welcomed at the monastery, but you will be isolated."

"Isolated?" I questioned, a knot of dread replacing the desire slowly dying in the face of Ranger's withdrawal. "You mean like quarantined?"

"There is a guest house at the monastery." Ranger said. "I'm sure it will be made available to you. I'll be taken into the monastery proper. I'll stay in a cell with the monks."

"A cell?" I asked. "As in a prison?"

"No, a cell, as in a simple room. It's what they call their living quarters."

"And coming to this monastery was a good reason, because…?" I groused.

Sunlight was starting to filter into the mouth of the little cave and I realized I was exhausted. Ranger pulled me close to him. "Let's get some sleep, Babe, and then we'll eat and rest and wait for the darkness to continue the trip."

I drifted off to sleep, feeling safe in Ranger's arms.

**TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: We are thrilled at the response to this story. Thank you for the reviews that have been overwhelmingly generous and positive. Please enjoy this next chapter.

***.***

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Four: Revelations in the Clouds**

**Ranger's POV**

The sunlight filtered into our private retreat, and its warmth brought me to consciousness. I glanced at my watch. 3:30. I don't usually require much sleep, but the combination of my injury, the long trek up the mountain, the thinning atmosphere, and Stephanie's warm, close presence, must have added up to produce the unusually lengthy hibernated state. Now that I was awake, I found it hard to give up the physical connection we had established in our sleep. Her head was lying on my shoulder, my knee was firmly settled between her thighs, and my arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, putting my shoulder at the perfect angle to avoid stress on the injury. Even in sleep she healed me.

I leaned back and stared down at Stephanie. The only hint of life was the slight rise and fall of her chest. A single curl lifted from her face as a breeze wound its way through the surrounding rocks. I'd watched her sleep a hundred times, and I never get tired of it. I often wondered if Morelli ever held the same appreciation. I'd observed them together over the last few months in their current on-again status. He loved her. I had no doubt. They had a history that defied explanation. They had spent years in a revolving door of hurt and reconciliation, yet they never appeared to learn or advance. The relationship never grew deeper, and I was hard pressed to decipher who was responsible for keeping it that way. Part of me hoped that it was Stephanie. That she couldn't, or wouldn't, let the relationship develop into something more permanent and binding because of us.

"Dios!" I whispered out in a frustrated breath. Us. What _us_? Our relationship was so poorly defined it... I was such a bastard when it came to letting her in. My purely selfish desires had directed every personal interaction we had ever shared. Every touch, every innuendo, every look, had been because I couldn't control my basic need to be with her, and when it became too much, too difficult to maintain the careful balance that I attempted to keep, I would withdraw. I would push up my walls and shut her out completely. I used the name Morelli like a bucket of cold water, and I knew it would trigger her guilt. She would emotionally pull away, ending what I was too weak to stop on my own. I was painfully aware that it left her confused and frustrated, but it was effective; until the next time, when I was powerless to avoid being drawn, once again, to her light, to her energy, to her beauty; to the connection I felt with her that I could not escape. And if I hadn't understood that before, what had happened in de Franco's resort last night had certainly made that crystal clear.

"What on earth are you thinking about?" Stephanie's words jolted me out of my thoughts, and I was left wanting for a measured, thoughtful response.

"You're awake." Dios, _that_ was the best I could come up with?

"Yes, I'm awake. I've been awake."

"How long?" I responded weakly. She was smiling at my obvious lack of awareness, enjoying the reversal of roles just a little too much.

"Long enough to see an expression on your face that I've never seen before. You look as though you've just lost your last friend. What's going on, Ranger?" I could read it in her face the moment she had a revelation. She sprung up and leaned over my body to get a better look at my shoulder. "Are you in pain? Is the infection worse?" Unable to see anything because of the black shirt, she pressed her palm against my forehead as her concern escalated. "You seem a little warm. Do you feel warm? Let me get you some water. We have a few bandages left. I should change it." She reached above my head to grab the duffel bag that I had tucked against the wall of the cave.

"Babe," I assured her with a hand on her wrist to slow her panic. "I'm fine. Really. I was just thinking."

"Thinking," she flatly responded and sat back on her knees. "About what?"

There was no way I was going to have that conversation with her now, maybe not ever. "I was just thinking about getting to the monastery from here. The route we need to travel is going to take us near a small village. We'll need to make sure it's well after dark before we pass it. Most of the villagers live off the land, and they work long hours that keep them busy until well past sundown. Without electricity up here, they depend on lanterns for light, but once they turn in, that's it. Fuel is expensive, and they won't waste it sitting up at night. We should be able to go by unnoticed."

"No electricity?" She shuddered. "Boy, when you said primitive, you meant _primitive_!" Stephanie was tough, but the Jersey girl loved her amenities. I knew she didn't like facing the day without a hot shower, hair products, and coffee. "I'd give anything for a bath right now," she moaned wistfully.

I gave her a wicked grin and sat up, hissing at the pain that shot through my arm from the movement.

"Damn it, Ranger, you're not okay!" There was a touch of anger mixed in with her renewed concern.

"I'm fine." I stood and grabbed her by the hand. "Come on."

I pulled her out of our private, protective 'suite' and dragged her up the path I had followed when we first arrived. It wasn't far, but its entrance was well hidden by a thicket of coarse evergreens, and it was bordered by high walls of solid rock.

"Where are we going?" she protested as I guided her carefully through the scratchy bushes.

"It's just through here."

"What's just through….." she stopped short when she caught sight of my surprise. "Oh!" She looked at me and then back at the pool of water with its steam rising into the surrounding, cooler air. "It's a…is that water warm?" Her surprise and disbelief were evident in her raised tone and the look of wonder on her face.

"It's a hot spring. I found it when we arrived here last night." I nodded toward the two hotel towels draped over a larger bush at the edge of the pool. "You can have that bath now."

Stephanie looked at the plush towels and then returned to me with a grin on her face. "You don't have Ella stuffed in that backpack of yours, do you? Is there a silver domed tray with breakfast hiding behind the rocks, too?"

"I rinsed those towels out last night. They're still stained, but they should be dry by now." I turned to leave.

Stephanie put her hand on my shoulder. "Where are you going?"

I turned back to face her. "I'm going to let you take your bath."

"Alone? I mean…is it safe?" She looked warily around the stone walls as if bandits might be lurking behind each rock.

I tugged at a curl that had blown across her face and tucked it behind her ear. "Believe me, Babe, I'm the biggest threat here. I won't go far." I gave her a kiss on the cheek and left it linger a bit too long. _Dios, what am I doing_? I walked back through the brush cover and took a seat on a large rock.

I could hear Stephanie as she descended into the water. She released a satisfied moan that made my pants tight and my resolve weak. I could be in there with her. I knew that. She wouldn't turn me away. She never denied my advances. It would be sheer ecstasy making love to her again. Being inside Stephanie was as close to heaven as I would probably ever get, but then it would be over, and reality would make its cruel return. I had to keep my distance. It wasn't fair to her, and it was hell for me. In less than twelve hours, we would be at the monastery, and she and I would be separated regardless of our wishes or desires. It would be a relief; a forced and welcomed respite from the constant battle I was fighting.

"RANGER!" Stephanie's high-pitched, panicked cry was preceded by a lot of splashing and followed by shouts of concern and profanity.

I hurried back through the thicket with my gun drawn and literally ran into her as she gathered one of the towels to her chest. "What is it?"

"What the hell is that!" She turned her back to me, leaned into my chest for protection, and was shaking in near hysteria as she pointed at a large barrel-shaped creature sitting on the far side of the pool.

I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulled her with me to the edge of the brush, and drew us both down into a crouch near the ground.

"Shoot it!" she screamed in a whisper. "My god, it's the largest rat I've ever seen, and I've been to New York!"

A chuckle was building in my throat, but I repressed it. It probably wasn't a good time to show her I was amused by her fear. "Babe, don't worry. It won't hurt you."

"Ranger, it's huge! That thing must be three feet long, and it has teeth." Stephanie was still pushing her body back into mine for protection, and _Dios, _it felt good for her to need me like that.

"It's a Capybara." I used a calm voice to reassure her. "It's kind of an oversized guinea pig. They're common all over South America."

"What does it want?"

"Food, most likely. You're bathing in its grocery store. They're not vicious. Think of it as a giant Rex." We watched the rodent nibble at the water plants growing near the edge of a pool of cooler water that had formed from the run-off of the springs. The animal gave us a glance, but didn't seem especially concerned by our presence. I felt Stephanie relax. "Capybaras are herbivores, Babe. It has no interest in eating you." I bit my tongue to hold back the suggestion that_ I_, however, had great interest in that endeavor. Her naked, warm, wet body pressed up against my chest, and basically sitting in my lap, was creating a _'situation'_.

Stephanie must have noticed, too. She leaned forward a bit and tried to cover the rest of herself with the towel in an attempt at modesty, but the action only managed to put her hands between our still close bodies. She released a slight gasp as her hands discovered my reaction to her, and she turned to face me. With her dark, wet hair slicked back from her face, her eyes were huge and bluer than I had ever seen as they reflected the light and color from the cloudless sky overhead.

"I'm sorry, I've…I've made you wet." She blushed, and she was oddly nervous and flustered. "I mean your shirt…" She patted the wet fabric of my shirt. "And your…" Her eyes drifted lower, "pants." She looked back up at me. "You'll be cold."

I could see it in her eyes. I could read every thought as it passed through her mind; expectation, anticipation, and desire. But as she stared longer into mine, the look soured into insecurity, self-doubt, guilt, and sadness. I hated evoking those feelings in her. She deserved better. I kissed her on the forehead. "I'll dry, Babe." I secured my weapon and reached for the second towel still hanging from the bush. "You're getting cold." I wrapped the towel around her shoulders and lifted her still dripping hair to rest over the top of it. "It looks as if your R.O.U.S. has moved on. I'll let you get dressed and then we should eat."

My remark drew a laugh from Stephanie. "Rodent of Unusual Size. Never would have pegged you as a 'Princess Bride' kind of guy, Ranger. Wesley killed the R.O.U.S. to protect his Princess Buttercup. He was a romantic."

"I have my moments. Fortunately killing wasn't necessary this time to save the damsel in distress." With those final words, I exited through the brush to giver her some privacy.

Back at the cave, Stephanie opened the duffel bag and pulled out the food that was left.

"What would you like?" she said to me. "We have half a bag of carrots, an apple, four energy bars, and water." She didn't even mention the other items she was pulling from the bag.

I feigned concentration in folding up the blanket and towels and with all seriousness replied, "I'll have the peanut butter crackers, the chocolate bar and the Coke."

Stephanie froze mid reach, and I swear her look was as defensive as any animal protecting its young from danger. "You're kidding, right?" she said, not so sure of my motives.

I smiled, and she relaxed. She handed me the bag of carrots and two energy bars, and I grabbed a bottle of water. The sun was dropping lower in the sky, and the air was beginning to cool again. We sat up against a rock and had our meal in companionable silence while basking in the last rays of sunlight, still working off the awkwardness of the encounter at the spring.

Eventually, Stephanie's voice fractured the quiet. "What's that over there?"

I looked in the direction she indicated. "That's Pico Bolivar. It's the highest point of the Andes in Venezuela."

"It's beautiful. The clouds circling the top look pink." She stood and brushed the crumbs from her shirt, then walked to the edge of the clearing. "Is it always so peaceful here?"

"It can be. Life here is rough for the locals, but at the monastery life is pretty slow, quiet and peaceful." I thought about Stephanie spending time there, and a grin escaped. "You might find it frustratingly so."

"You don't think I can take life slow?"

I threw the question back at her. "Do _you_ think you can take life slow?"

"Well…how long are we going to be there?"

"I don't know. Until the heat on us dies down and I can get you safely back to Trenton. Could be a couple of weeks."

"Weeks! What about the case?"

"Morelli and the DEA have the evidence they need. That's what they hired us for. We did our job."

"Will the evidence be enough to put de Franco away and break up the cartel?"

"If de Franco is taken into custody as soon as he gets into the country, and if the US District Attorney does his job, what we sent them should be more than enough. After he falls, the others involved should start falling, too. There isn't a lot of loyalty among the members of the cartel. My guess is they'll trip over themselves trying to make deals to give each other up."

"No honor among thieves?" she chuckled.

"There rarely ever is."

The sun dropped behind the outcrop of rocks, and the temperature instantly dropped another ten degrees. Stephanie wrapped her arms around herself. I picked up her jacket and motioned for her to put out her arms. She slid into the sleeves, and I turned her to engage the zipper. We were once again standing eye to eye, and her fix on me was intense. "Ranger, what happened back in de Franco's office?"

I broke eye contact and took an unusual interest in the function of the zipper. "I found the information, I sent it to Morelli, and then I sabotaged their system."

"And?"

"And, job done. I got out of there."

"You were shot!"

I slipped into the blank face I had perfected for every possible situation.

"I know you. You're careful, focused, and as stealthy as a ninja. Something went wrong. Something unexpected. What was it?" She demanded.

Every possible situation except when it came to facing Stephanie, apparently. It was time for a diversion. I artfully turned her back to my chest, wrapped my arms around her waist and laid my chin on her shoulder. "Nothing. There may have been a silent alarm that didn't show up on the specs for the building. Maybe Hector missed something. Did you eat _all_ of that chocolate bar?"

Stephanie shifted to the side and turned her head to face me. "Choco…who are you, and what have you done with Ranger?"

"I just have a craving for chocolate, Babe."

She stepped out of my embrace and walked with a very determined strut over to the duffel. She bent over, reached inside the bag, and came out with the remaining half of the chocolate bar carefully cocooned in its folded over wrapper. She looked at it longingly and then, with a sigh, handed it over to me. I gave her a blinding smile, carefully peeled back the foil, broke off a section, and popped it in my mouth. Stephanie never took her eyes off the chocolate. I pulled the remaining section from the wrapper and, slowly this time, lifted it to my lips. When I decided that she had been tortured enough, I changed course at the last minute and held it to her lips instead. She gave me a smirk and snatched it from my fingers without hesitation.

"You forget, Ranger," she sweetly declared, as she swiped a finger over the smear of chocolate that remained on her lips then seductively licked it. "I'm a professional when it comes to distraction, and I spotted that one the minute you broke eye contact. What happened in de Franco's office?"

**TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

****A/N Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing, and thanks to Janet Evanovich for the creation of these wonderful characters which we use for fun and not profit!****

*******.***.*******

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Five: Date Night**

**Stephanie's POV**

"What happened in de Franco's office," I asked Ranger once again. Ranger stared at me with an intensity that caused my heart to skip a beat. His hair was loose on his shoulders, and he had over a day's growth of beard. He looked dangerous. He looked gorgeous and even without the small smear of chocolate on the edge of his mouth, he looked edible.

Ignoring my question, he broke eye contact and looked at the sky beyond the entrance to our cave. He checked his watch. "We've got about three or four hours here, before it's safe to make our way up the mountain, and we'll talk about de Franco's office, but not yet. I want to rest, and I will let you change the bandage on my wound. We have a little more of the antibiotic ointment, and we might as well use it."

I'd just told him I was an expert at distraction. He was too. I recognized he was giving himself time to edit the story he would tell me, but I could be persistent. "Let's change the bandage now," I said. He obligingly pulled his shirt over his head and presented his back to me. When I removed the bandage I couldn't prevent my rapidly indrawn breath. The entire area around the gash was warm to the touch and red. The redness didn't extend outward in streaks and I knew that was a good sign. But it was infected; there was no denying it.

"Your wound is infected," I said. "It isn't horrible, but you need antibiotics, and soon."

"Armando will take care of it," he said. "There is a small infirmary within the monastery and although they practice a holistic form of medicine, they will have antibiotics available."

I quickly squeezed the rest of the ointment from the tube letting it lay across the wound. The bleeding had stopped, and even with the infection, I thought healing had begun. "I did the best job I could," I told him, "but you're going to have a nasty scar."

Ranger sighed, a very unRanger-like sigh. "Another battle scar," he said. There was a sardonic tone to his voice.

"You don't think of it as a battle scar?" I asked.

"Hardly, but I'm in a minority. I've seen men wear them like combat medals. Flaunt them as proof of their bravery or show them off to impress women."

"Men think women are impressed by their scars?" I questioned again. This was an odd conversation we were having.

"I've known some women who were attracted by my scars, wanting to know where each scar came from. As though each one was added proof of my virility." Ranger sat down abruptly and gently leaned his back against the wall. He flexed the fingers of his left hand. I wondered if the swelling around his wound was making his fingers numb. He held his good arm out to me.

"Sit next to me," he said. We need to rest. I want it to be really dark before we leave tonight."

"How far are we?" I asked. "Will the climb be rough?"

"I think we are less than three hours, and the climb won't be as steep as last night, but there will be more horizontal ground to cover. There is a small village we will be coming close to. If de Franco thinks it was me in the office the other night, he could have people looking for us. He won't breach the sanctity of the monastery without clear proof, so he may well have people out in the night looking for us." We fell into a comfortable silence, and my mind wandered to our previous conversation.

"They don't turn me on," I said, interrupting the quiet.

"Babe?"

"Your scars," I clarified. "I'm not excited to see your scars. I feel sorrow when I see them, because I see them as pain and suffering you've had to endure."

"I see them as FUBARs," he said softly. "Every scar on my body represents something gone wrong on an op."

What was going on here? Ranger was talking. We were teetering on the edge of a real conversation. My brain was vibrating with indecision. He'd just put a big fork in the road, and I didn't know what path to take. I wanted to ask him about the women who thought his scars were sexy. I knew there were women in his life. I'd never so much as heard a whisper about Ranger's women, but I knew from the night we'd shared so long ago, he'd had plenty of experience. I wanted to ask him, again, about de Franco's office. He'd just admitted his scars were the result of things gone wrong. I reached my hand up and lightly traced my fingers over his bandage.

"What went wrong?" I asked. I looked into his eyes in the dimming light of early evening. His eyes were dark orbs staring out from a face whose paleness was broken by two slights spots of color in his cheeks. My fingers trailed softly across his forehead, and it was warm. In the few minutes since I'd changed his bandage he'd spiked a fever. We had no aspirin, and he needed some.

"You've got a fever, and we need medicine," I said.

"It's not bad," he responded. "We'll rest for another hour and then we'll start up. It's earlier than I'd planned on setting out, but you're right, I do need antibiotics." Hearing him say it was terrifying. Without Ranger I was lost. Keeping him as healthy as possible and getting to the monastery were of utmost importance. I jumped up and searched through our diminishing supplies. Three bottles of water and one coke left. I opened one of the waters and handed it to him. He definitely needed to stay hydrated.

As I glanced at my purse, lying crumpled beneath our meager stash in the bottom of the duffel, I smacked a hand to my forehead. We did have medicine. I stuffed my hand deep in my purse and smiled broadly as I held up a new package of Midol. I did a small happy dance and dropped to my knees in front of Ranger and held the package up for his inspection.

"Babe."

"Don't 'Babe' me, Ranger. Look at the second ingredient. Ibuprofen. It will help with the fever." I quickly shook out two pills and after a moment's thought, two more. He took them from me and swallowed them with a gulp of the water.

"Sit back down, Stephanie, and I'll tell you about de Franco's office." I did and worried about the heat I could feel radiating off him.

"When I went into the office," he said, "it was a simple enough task to plug in a flash drive and download the needed information. Hector had done the groundwork and figured out the way in around de Franco's passwords. I also e-mailed the files to the DEA office in Trenton. I would have been out of there; I should have been out of there, but I caught a glimpse of some…photographs." He stopped talking for the moment and I realized his water bottle was empty. I reached to grab another out of the duffel but he shook his head no.

"Not yet," he said as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall of the cave.

I let him rest for a few minutes before my curiosity got the better of me. "Photographs of what?" I asked.

"You."

My heart rose to my throat. "Why would de Franco have photographs of me?"

"I've asked myself the same question," Ranger said. Some of the pictures were of you alone and some were of you and Morelli. They were taken at the cocktail party you attended, and I could see de Franco in the background in one shot."

"Joe has known de Franco for a while, but that party was the first and only time, other than in the hotel room, I've ever met him."

"Well, either you made a big impression on him, or he has an informant on his payroll, and I'm thinking it's the latter. Worst case scenario it's someone on the DEA taskforce. I was looking at the photos so intently I almost got caught as well as shot. Whoever came into the office shot blindly. They hit me by luck and not skill, and I know they didn't get a good look at me. The pictures suggest that they already suspected our reasons for being here. I think your actions in the hotel room caused them to doubt their original supposition." Ranger turned his back to me, but instead of getting up, he laid his head in my lap. I looked down to see his eyes close and heard him say, "Let me sleep for a half hour, and then we'll eat and head up the mountain."

His behavior was not what I was accustomed to. He was letting me see his weakness, and while that was good in terms of our personal connection, it was making me very nervous. I was totally dependent on Ranger to get us to safety. I'd let him sleep and then dose him with more Midol. Heck, maybe I'd take some. It was for cramps, and my muscles were protesting at the unusual workout I'd been giving them.

While Ranger slept, the last vestiges of light faded away and we were enveloped in an inky blackness. I closed my eyes and mentally prepared myself for a long night. After waiting what I deemed to be a half hour I let my fingers trail a path over Ranger's forehead. It was cooler. His hand came up and wrapped around mine and pulled my fingers to his lips for a soft kiss. He sat up.

"I'm feeling better," he said. "I think the Midol worked."

"I'm helping you get in touch with your feminine side."

"I don't think so, Babe. I don't have a feminine side." What could I say? I thought he was right. He stood and started walking toward the mouth of the cave.

"Where are you going? Are we leaving?"

He was silhouetted in the opening by faint streams of moonlight. "I'm going to pee and then we are going to eat before we head out."

"I'll go with you," I said. "I won't look if you don't, because I need to go, too." I sensed his amusement at my discomfort.

We reentered the cave together. Ranger bent over the duffel, and I heard rustling as he searched the contents. Soft light suddenly illuminated the cave and I saw the small mag light in Ranger's hand. He motioned for me to sit down, and I did. He handed me a small package of peanuts and offered me the last Coke. I took both. The bag of carrots was his choice, along with another bottle of water. He also took two more Midol. Feminine side or not, he was in no jeopardy of losing his machismo.

The mag light was leaning against the duffel pointing toward the ceiling of the cave. I couldn't take my eyes off him in the pale light. The beard on his face suited him, as did the silky hair resting on his shoulders. I was used to seeing him immaculately groomed with his hair pulled back from his face. This mountain man look was definitely appealing. My thoughts turned again to the women who thought his scars were marks of virility.

"Ranger, I uh…" My hesitation drew his attention, fully. "I was wondering, I mean, I was thinking about the women who like your scars, and…" I was floundering. I wanted to ask, but I didn't want to know. He took pity on me.

"When I was active in the Rangers, it was a common practice to come out of a debriefing and find a willing woman to spend the next few days with. It was a good transition from an unreal situation back to a real life. Many times, I've used sex to get myself back into a functioning mode after weeks of suppressing all emotion."

"I, well maybe it's none of my business, but I was just wondering if there is someone in your life now. I mean, you know all about me and Morelli, and I was just wondering if there was someone in your life." My cheeks felt hotter than Ranger's forehead had felt before the Midol, and I knew I didn't have a temperature.

"Yes."

"What?" I asked, my stomach turning flip-flops.

"Yes," he said. "There is someone in my life, but the relationship is undefined."

I was in way over my head. I felt sick at the thought of Ranger and another woman, and I realized the hypocrisy of my feelings. I was currently very involved with Joe, so I had absolutely no reason to feel the sudden stabs of jealousy coursing through me. The topic of conversation had to be changed. I was close to making a fool of myself, and this wasn't the time or place.

"Wow, it's like date night in the Andes," I said trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.

"Babe?"

"You know," I prattled. "Date night. A simple meal with soft light and good conversation. It's like a date night, Venezuelan mountain style."

Ranger looked at me for a moment, a frown marring his forehead. "Stephanie, if you're asking, and I think you are, then I'll tell you. I haven't made love to anyone since I spent the night in your bed." The thrill of excitement at hearing his words settled low in my stomach. My hands reached out in jerky movements to collect our empty drink bottles. I was trembling with an unexpected desire for which there was no outlet. I hoped the dim light would hide my reaction to his words.

Once again I tried to turn the conversation in a different direction. "You didn't eat much. There is more food. Here is part of a TastyKake thing, or there is a small bit of chocolate left, but it's crumbled."

"I'm fine. I'd rather do without, than have something that would leave me still hungry and dissatisfied as well." I drew in a breath and blew it out slowly to calm myself. He wasn't talking about food and we both knew it.

I began to repack our duffel, making sure not to leave any evidence of our stay in the cave. Ranger clicked off the flashlight, and it disappeared back into his pocket. He used his good arm to help me slip the duffel over my shoulders in backpack mode. As we walked out of the cave, he turned me and pushed me against the rock outcropping that shielded the cave entrance from view.

"If this is date night," he said, "I'm going to get my goodnight kiss." He leaned into me, his lips finding mine with unerring accuracy. His mouth was soft against mine, but insistent. We both knew the kiss would lead to nothing and in spite of that knowledge, or maybe because of it, I opened my mouth and returned his kiss with complete abandon. Eventually he pulled back and took a deep breath. "C'mon, let's go see Armando," and we started the last leg of our journey.

The moonlight was intermittent as clouds wafted across the night sky. The climb did seem less arduous, as Ranger said it would be. We walked side by side until the sound of a dog barking in the distance halted us both in our tracks. We'd been walking along a rough path that edged a wooded area. The night was cold and clear and the dog's bark sounded close.

"The village I told you about is approximately a quarter mile through these woods. We will walk parallel to it for the next few hundred yards, and then we will walk inside the wooded area for more coverage." Ranger spoke softly and directly into my ear. He didn't tell me to be quiet, but I figured out on my own it was a good idea. We continued to make good progress until Ranger came to a sudden halt. He crouched and pulled me down beside him. We were hidden completely in the brush.

"What is it?" I whispered, fearing the presence of a man-eating animal or a vicious wild dog.

"Shh," he cautioned. "Make yourself comfortable. We're going to be here for a while. I did as he asked and stayed quiet. I could hear the wind whistling through the trees and another sound I couldn't immediately identify. It took a while before I realized I was hearing human sounds and not those of an animal. My eyes widened as it hit me. I was hearing the unmistakable sounds of lovemaking, and I thought they were pretty close to us. Moans and softly spoken words in a language I didn't understand intermingled with a soft laugh. Ranger leaned over and quietly whispered in my ear. "They must be from the village. Young lovers out on Venezuelan date night." I felt his slight squeeze on my arm, and I suddenly felt happy for the unknown pair.

We stayed in place for what seemed like a very long time. Then, without speaking, Ranger stood and held out his uninjured arm to me. I grabbed hold and pulled myself up. I thought his hand felt a little warm and wondered if his fever was coming back. He gave no indication of pain or weakness and began to walk up the mountain with me following behind. My hand was wrapped around the hem of his jacket. I'd learned my lesson about the waistband of his cargos. Clouds had covered the entire sky, and I didn't know how Ranger was able to see the way in the dark, but I was grateful he could.

Our progress continued steadily until, once again, Ranger came to an abrupt halt. "What now?" I said quietly. I looked up, and my heart started beating wildly. A small break in the clouds sent a shaft of moonlight down directly in front of us, and the shadow in the path was clearly that of a man.

Ranger stepped forward and said, "Armando, soy yo Carlos. Y no estoy solo." The shadow walked toward us, and Ranger pulled me to his side, speaking in Spanish to the man. I could see now that it was a monk, his head hidden under the hood of his dark robe.

"Dom Armando, this is Stephanie. We need to stay for a while. I've been shot, and we think Jolie de Franco is looking for us." There followed a rapid exchange in Spanish, and I thought Ranger was telling the monk about his wound.

His shoulders seemed to sag as the conversation drew to an end, and I thought it was a good thing we were here. The monk stepped forward and held out his hand. I placed mine in his, and he shook it giving my hand a soft squeeze. "Stephanie, welcome to Nuestra Señora de los Andes. You will be safe here, and we will make Carlos whole again."

**TBC...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Sonomom and I wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving. Take some time away from the world of fanfiction to experience and savor your family traditions. Eat yourself into a stupor with plenty of roast turkey and pumpkin pie, and then return here Friday for the posting of chapter 7 before you burn off all those calories shopping for Christmas. To our international readers who don't celebrate this wonderful holiday; Sorry! It's one of the only American holidays that focuses on time together with friends and family without the requirement or tradition of gift giving or the stresses associated with it. I personally will be spending the day with my entire immediate family, and then on Saturday will be spending it with my parents, brothers, sister, aunt, uncle, cousins and all of their families. 50+ total under one roof! We do it every year and it's amazing.**

**Latetolove**

*****.***.*****

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Six: Confessions**

**Armando's POV**

When I took Stephanie's hand, I felt desperation and relief in her shaky grip. Carlos looked exhausted, and I had a suspicion he was in a great deal more pain than he was letting on. I had before me two very weary travelers with, what I'm sure was, a very interesting story to tell. I turned back to the path and led them toward the monastery.

"Dom Armando, I am surprised to find you out here at this hour." Carlos maintained a protective hold on his companion. He had obviously decided to continue our dialogue in English out of respect for her.

I turned to him. "It's 'Father' now, Carlos. Actually, 'Father Abbot' is my official title here. I was ordained into the priesthood four years ago, and I am now the Prior here."

Carlos came to such an abrupt stop that Stephanie nearly tripped, but despite his injury and pain, he handily kept her on her feet. He gave me a rare smile. It may have been several years since I had seen him, but I remembered how serious and intense he had been when he spent his time among us.

"Congratulations, Father," he said, correcting himself and showing the utmost respect for my position.

"Thank you," I responded. "But to answer your question, I was restless tonight and couldn't sleep. When I find myself besieged by troubles, I often come down here, away from the cloistered walls of the monastery." I turned my attention to Stephanie. "There is a small and very old chapel just over that hill." I pointed in the direction. "You might remember it, Carlos. When the order settled here many years ago, the chapel was the first thing the original monks built. Later, the decision was made to move and build the current monastery further up the mountain. The chapel is the only building left on the original site. For many years the locals used it for services, but over time it has fallen into disrepair and has been all but abandoned. I still go there often. I find a peace in that ancient chapel that I don't find anywhere else." I turned to continue leading our relatively easy climb back to the monastery, but called over my shoulder to Carlos, "I am sure God put me in your path tonight, mi buen amigo, just like he did nearly seven years ago."

We arrived at the compound, and I led them to the guesthouse. "Stephanie, you will stay here. I think you will find everything you need inside for a comfortable stay. It is late, and I am sure you are very tired from your journey. I will arrange for Dom Ignacio to bring you a late breakfast in the morning. If you require anything else, let him know. He will see that your needs are met."

I could see the realization had struck Stephanie that she would now be separated from Carlos, and a look of panic set in. She searched his eyes for answers as she gently touched his forehead like a concerned mother. "What about your injury? It needs to be looked at. Your fever is back."

Carlos took her hand, leaned into it, and gave her a kiss on her palm. "Don't worry, Babe. Arman…Father Armando will take care of it. You get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

Stephanie never broke eye contact with him and was reluctant to release his hand. She finally let go and allowed him to open the bag they had brought with them. He removed a few items, and then handed the bag back to her. She took it without much interest. "Okay," she weakly answered, obviously still not comfortable with the situation.

I took pity on the woman and touched her arm to get her attention. "I will make sure he gets what he needs. Carlos has a special place here as a postulant. He will be invited to stay among my fellow brothers in one of the cells."

Stephanie nodded at me. "Thank you, Father. I'm sure I'll be fine here." She returned her attention to Carlos, leaned toward him, placed a kiss to his cheek and then hesitantly stepped into the guesthouse, closing the door behind her.

Carlos did not move. He held an indissoluble focus on the closed door for several moments as if he did not trust that she would be safe out of his sight.

His body began to shiver slightly, and I was anxious to get him some badly needed medical attention, so I tried to break his concentration. I put my hand on his. Stephanie was right. He was quite warm. "You mentioned Jolie de Franco, Carlos. You are safe here. Stephanie is safe here. You know that," I assured him. "Now, can you make it to the infirmary, or do I need to call for some assistance?"

I had noted that, despite his ability to maintain his composure, Carlos' strength had continued to deteriorate during our short journey. Now that Stephanie was secure inside the guesthouse, my hope was that he would be able to let go of, at least to some extent, his steadfast allegiance to_ her_ wellbeing that had been driving him to ignore his own.

Carlos looked up at me. His face was unusually pale, and I immediately understood Stephanie's apparent concern for their parting. There was no answer from him, only a slight grunt as he fell to his knees.

With the assistance of Dom Jorge and Dom Felipe, we were able to get Carlos into one of the two beds in our small infirmary. I instructed that he be positioned on his stomach. Carlos had given me a brief account of his injury and how Stephanie had been treating the infection with the supplies they had on hand. After removing his shirt and the soiled bandage, I discovered a very angry infection and began treatment immediately.

It was not long before Carlos became conscious again. He lifted his head in confusion and immediately reached toward the back waistband of his pants.

"I removed your weapon in order to treat your wound. It is well within reach in the drawer to your right." He tried to sit up and hitched at the pain. I put a firm hand on his good shoulder and encouraged him to lie back down, but he resisted me. "Do not get up, Carlos. I cleansed and debrided your wound. It had been longer than twenty-four hours and the injury had already started to heal, so it was too late for sutures. I have pulled the sides together with some tape to assist with the healing, but I am afraid it will leave quite a scar. I have it covered with an onion and comfrey poultice. It should help to draw out the infection and sooth some of the pain. I also gave you an injection of penicillin. Your fever was quite high."

He did not seem to hear my words, but he was in a an aggitated state and still acted a little disoriented. "Stephanie?"

"Stephanie is fine, Carlos," I gently confirmed to him. "Remember? We saw her safely to the guesthouse."

My words appeared to sooth his concern, and he relaxed back down on the bed with a sigh and closed his eyes. "Thank you. I told her we would be welcome and safe here."

"¿Por qué no descansas ahora, soldado. Voy a estar esta guardia durante un tiempo," _(Why don't you rest now, soldier. I'll stand this guard for a while.) _I whispered to him. Carlos was a warrior. He was a warrior when I had first met him, and he remained one today, although his duty at present seemed to be to a woman, not to his country. I had been a warrior also, in another life, so I knew what made him tick. In his disoriented state, I knew how to ease his anxiety over his perceived, immediate obligation. But there was something else going on within Carlos; something more insidious than a gunshot wound and a fever. He was troubled. His real pain went much deeper, and I was sure it had to do with Stephanie. Even in the brief moments we had been together this evening, I could see it in his manner with her and in the way he looked at her when she was unaware.

Carlos was finally asleep, and I turned to my colleagues. "Dom Felipe, I will remain in the infirmary tonight. Will you see to it that Brother Jonas leads the morning prayer service?"

"Yes, Father."

The brothers left us to return to their own beds. It would not be long before the others would be aware of our guests. Several of the monks had been here when Carlos came to stay with us before. They would be filled with joy to see him again, for we learned as much from him as he did from us.

I pulled up a chair near the bed and took a seat. It was going to be a long night.

**Ranger's POV**

I opened my eyes to a fuzzy image of Armando slumped back in a chair, sound asleep. He was holding a bowl that could, at any moment, easily slip from his grip and spill its contents to the floor. I blinked, and my vision cleared slightly. I was lying on my stomach, and I felt stiff and sore as hell. I had a vague recall of arriving last night. _Stephanie! _ I jerked myself up on my hands and immediately felt the pull in my shoulder. My actions brought my old friend to sudden consciousness, and he skillfully balanced the bowl as he sat up and focused his attention on my attempt at movement.

"Carlos, relax," he calmly encouraged. He stood and set the bowl on the bedside table. "You are going to tear your wound open again."

"Where is Stephanie?" I slowly, but purposefully, rose to a sitting position on the bed and dropped my legs over the side. "I remember other voices last night. Men."

Armando reached up and removed a loose bandage of some sort from my back and put it in the bowl. "Stephanie is safely tucked away in the guesthouse. She is most likely still asleep. You both were exhausted when you arrived here last night. And the voices you heard were those of the brothers who assisted me in getting you into the infirmary when you dropped to the ground." He looked at me with concern. "Do you remember any of it?"

I nodded slightly. "Some. How long have I been here?"

"You have been asleep for nearly eight hours. Although it was a restless sleep before your fever finally broke a few hours ago. It is almost noon. Are you hungry?"

My mouth was as dry as a desert, but I didn't have much of an appetite. I saw a pitcher on the table. "Is that water?"

Armando nodded and hurried to fill a glass. "I will have Dom Berto bring you a bowl of his famous vegetable soup."

I smiled at the name.

Armando handed me the drink. "Believe it or not, he still works tirelessly in that garden you created for him. The variety and amount of vegetables he produces at this altitude is nothing short of a miracle."

I shook my head in wonder. "He must be what, eighty years old by now?"

"Eighty-three, but you would never guess it. He actually seems to grow younger each year. He will be happy to see you again, Carlos. I think he has plans to expand the garden." Armando's grin had a double meaning.

"You think I'm staying that long?" I tested my pain by flexing my arm and lifting it. I didn't get far. "It will be a good three weeks before this shoulder is ready for that kind of work."

"Why are you here, Carlos?" Armando ignored my question and asked one of his own accompanied by a demanding and probing stare. I remembered this about him. He was good at getting answers. Hell, if the CIA knew about his effective combination of religious innocence and patriarchal-like command, they would train more priests as agents.

All of the sudden, I felt eight years old and caught in a lie. "I told you last night. Jolie de Franco…"

"I know what you told me." He cut me off. Not many men can do that and get away with it. He can. Armando's age fell somewhere in the middle between my father's and mine. But even seven years ago he treated me like a son. He'd saved my life in more ways than one, and I had a great deal of respect for him. "You expect me to believe that with all of your resources, the only way you could manage to escape the wrath of Jolie de Franco was to climb a mountain in the middle of the night and find your way here?"

I looked at him in surprise. "How do you know about my resources?"

"We may be secluded up here, Carlos, but we do find ways to keep in touch with the rest of the world on occasion." Armando picked up a towel and gently dabbed at the remains of whatever concoction he had placed over my wound for the night. It smelled like onions and herbs. I was going to need a shower, and soon. "When I left here to pursue my training for the priesthood, Brother Teo also left." He stopped his ministrations on my wound and looked at me questioningly. "You remember Dom Teo, do you not, Carlos?"

I nodded.

"He was always so restless here. I do not think he was happy with the isolation." He shook his head and continued with his work. "Anyway, we both left for the seminary, and after we received our Holy Orders, I requested to be returned here to serve as Prior. Father Teo was given a parish outside of New York City. He is much better suited to that kind of position." I gritted my teeth and internally winced as he taped a bandage in place over my wound. "We still keep in touch by mail."

I was beginning to wonder how the hell Armando managed to live with the restrictions of silence required here at the monastery. I didn't remember him as being long-winded.

His hands froze in place as if he too had just recognized his own atypical chattiness. "I am sorry, Carlos." He looked at me with a guilt-ridden face. "I was curious, and I asked Father Teo to do some research on you. I wanted to know how you were getting along."

When I didn't respond, he continued spilling his story. "He told me all about your successes with your company, and he sent me some newspaper articles."

"What was in the articles?" I spent a great deal of time and energy trying to remain under the radar. It was important to the success of my business that my face not be too well known. Once Stephanie had entered my life, that task had become more difficult.

"Most of them just mentioned your company's donations and support of the community. I was particularly pleased with the endowment you made to Catholic Charities Foundation in Trenton. There were one or two articles that he sent me about the kidnapping of your daughter." His eyes squinted in concentration. "I can not remember her name."

"Julie."

He looked up with a smile. "Yes! Julie! That is it." His face got serious again. "That must have been a terrible time for you, Carlos."

"She's fine now. She lives with her mother." I brushed off the focus on my failed marriage and relationship with my daughter. I didn't want him to be disappointed in me. "If you read those articles, then you already knew about Stephanie."

Armando's smile was broad, and I could tell he was remembering details from the stories. "The Bombshell Bounty Hunter? Is that not how they refer to her in Trenton?"

'_Dios, not here, too_,' I groaned to myself. "Do yourself a favor, Padre. If you value the peace and tranquility here, don't mention that nickname to her."

"I will take your advice, Carlos. I would not want to do anything to upset her. I have nothing but respect for her brave actions in helping to save your innocent daughter. For Stephanie to be so willing to put herself in such danger, I imagine that you must be very special to her, and she to you."

"Stephanie _is_ very special, Armando. I've never met anyone like her," I confessed.

"Tell me more about your trouble with Jolie de Franco."

I spent the next few minutes giving Armando the basic details of the mission and my company's role in it; from the initial contact with the Trenton PD and the joint cooperation of the DEA, to the cover story that Stephanie and I used to make the trip down here and the information I was able to obtain and pass on. I left out the details of our escape from the hotel room. I didn't think he would appreciate the circumstances.

"That is quite a story, Carlos, but it still does not explain why you felt the need to come here."

"When I saw those photographs of Stephanie in de Franco's office, I wasn't sure I could trust our contact with the DEA anymore. I needed to get Stephanie someplace safe, out of harm's way."

Armando had a sharp mind. He was all ready to ask more questions. "Why would you believe that the problem would be someone with the DEA, why could it not be someone from the Trenton Police Department?"

"Because the lead contact with the Trenton PD is Joe Morelli. He and Stephanie are very…close. He would never do anything to harm her. If there's a mole, it has to be in the DEA."

Armando had long finished treating my injury. He pulled up his chair and sat back down in front of me, leaning forward to get a straight on look at my face. "Carlos, from what you have told me about your men and how well trained and trustworthy they are, surely they would have been able to get both you and Stephanie safely out of the country and back to Trenton." He sighed and sat back. "When you came here the first time, your body was broken and injured, and your soul was lost. You spent many months finding your way back. You took on the ways of a postulant and developed a relationship with God that guided you to salvation. When you were healed and strong again, you left us and obviously became very successful. You built an empire using the valuable skills you learned as a soldier, but I can't help but wonder if your great success has had its shortcomings. Has it left you empty and wanting?"

I looked at him, amazed at his flawless interpretation. I shouldn't have been surprised. He understood me so well before. I was an open book to him.

"You love Stephanie, do you not, Carlos?"

I couldn't deny it in front of him. It would be like lying to God. After all of these years, he still had an unequivocal insight into my mind and its truths. "Yes, I love her." I had never spoken those words out loud before. I had barely permitted them to surface in my own thoughts. Stephanie had occupied my personal reflections more than any other person in my adult life, and her welfare had become more important to me than my own, but I had never allowed myself to use the word 'love' as a label for those feelings. I hid that word deep in the recesses of my mind, where it couldn't escape to complicate my life and hers. I looked up at Armando with resolution. "But she's not mine to love."

"Because of her relationship with someone else? This police officer that she is 'close' with?"

"Yes," I admitted. "But it's more than that." I hesitated a moment. "I can't risk letting it happen…again."

Armando gave me a sharp look. "What happened before was tragic, Carlos, but you were not responsible, and you know that." He stood and walked to the small window that, if I remembered correctly, overlooked a garden. "There was a great deal of wickedness in play during that time."

The pain in Armando's voice mirrored my own emotional state about the memories both of us were recalling. This was not a path I was prepared to go right now. I needed to keep my focus on the present; on Stephanie. "I'm not worthy of her, Father. I have done so many things…I have seen and been a part of so much evil and corruption. She deserves better. She should love…someone better."

"This Joe Morelli," he asked, seemingly eager to leave those memories behind as well. "He is a better man than you?"

"He's a good man," I conceded. "He loves her and can give her a good life. A better life than I can offer."

"Are you evil and corrupt, Carlos?"

"I've been tainted by it. I don't want that for her."

"You forget that I have been there, Carlos. I remember how the life of a mercenary takes its toll on the spirit. How easily it separates you from yourself and what you believe. How it eats away at your very core until you no longer recognize the face you see in the mirror." Armando seemed to be getting frustrated at my outlook on life. His next words were filled with supplication. "There is a difference between _being_ evil and _knowing_ evil. The Bible says; _'The Lord does not see the things man sees. Man sees the outward appearance, but the Lord sees the heart.'_ God knows you as a worthy man, Carlos, and so do I. Is it possible that Stephanie sees you that way also? That she loves you, because she sees you, not as what you have done, but as what she knows is in your heart?"

"If she loves me, she will get hurt."

"Why, Carlos? Why will Stephanie get hurt? Tell me why you came here again."

I looked at him with total openness and honesty. I needed help, and he could give it to me. "Because I'm lost again, Father."

**TBC...**


	7. Chapter 7

*****.***.*****

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Seven: The Turning Point**

**Stephanie's POV**

I felt safe, and I felt empty. It had only been two days, but Ranger and I had been in such close company, having him absent from me now was a physical ache. The last leg of our journey hadn't been arduous, but I was exhausted. The worry over Ranger and his deteriorating condition had taken its toll on me. My natural curiosity to explore this small haven warred with my fatigue. In the end, I had to do some exploring to find a place to lie down.

The guesthouse consisted of two small rooms and a bare bones bathroom. This wasn't the Ritz, but it was clean, and at the moment a shower and a toilet that flushed seemed downright luxurious. The main room consisted of an open area with a small kitchen at one end and a sitting area at the other. The bedroom opened off the main room. To say the room was austere was generous. There was a narrow bed and a small chest of drawers.

I dropped the makeshift backpack from my shoulders and onto the table in the kitchen. Once again I was grateful we'd arrived when we had, as our stash of supplies was almost depleted. I placed the remaining bottle of water on the counter and rummaged through the pack pulling the bloodied pillowcase and the towels from the duffel. I had a change of clothes inside, also dirty. I shook the clothing free of the bag and let it fall in a heap on the floor. I examined the clothes and began looking for the cleanest dirty thing to wear to bed. There was no good option.

I searched the closet and the cabinets in the bathroom and found towels and soap. The small chest of drawers in the bedroom contained a blanket and something that might work as a nightgown. It was an unbleached muslin gown that was going to be too large, but it was clean. Although my bath in the hot springs had been a unique experience, the shower was calling to me.

I stripped off and stepped into the shower to find the water pressure low and the temperature tepid. The soap was a white bar that looked as if it had been hewn off a larger block. I lathered my body and hair with the bar and spent more time rinsing the soap off than I had slathering it on. A couple of days before, I would have described the experience as miserable. Tonight it was blissful.

I dried off and went back into the main room in search of my purse, which was still smushed in the duffel. A brush and a nylon band were hiding near the bottom. I spent five painful minutes detangling my hair, and then I scooped the damp unruly mess back into a pony tail. I was trying to contain the beast since my flat iron and blow dryer were still at Jolie de Franco's San Cristobal resort. Finally, my basic bedtime preparations done, I fell onto the narrow bed and covered myself with the blanket from the drawer.

Sunshine was streaming in through the small window and bouncing off the white walls. I didn't want to wake up, but the light was making it impossible to stay asleep. I stretched in the small bed and felt the scratch of the sheets against my legs. No Egyptian cotton, high thread-count here, but I'd slept soundly. The air was so pure I could feel it travel deep into my lungs as I inhaled.

I sat and swung my feet out of bed and onto the still cool tile floor. My eyes fell on a stack of folded laundry sitting on the top of the small bureau. I'd left my dirty clothes and some of Ranger's on the floor in the kitchen. Now they were clean, folded and sitting in a nice little stack with my black lacy thong on top. I wrinkled my forehead as I tried to remember what Father Armando had said last night. Dom Ignacio would take care of my needs. I blushed as I thought of a plump elderly man of God handling my thong. Ranger's clothes were clean, folded and sitting on the bureau top as well. Ranger had no underwear in his stack.

I stood and pulled the thong on and found a bra and t-shirt as well as a pair of jeans. As I pulled the nightgown over my head, the nylon band which had been holding my hair fell to the floor. My ponytail had come undone in the middle of the night. I reached up and grimaced as my hands approximated the volume of my hair. Oh well, not like there was anyone to impress around here, except, of course, Ranger. And he'd seen me looking worse, I was sure.

My nose detected the scent of coffee and my stomach growled. Dressed, but still barefoot, I padded out of the bedroom and came to a quick stop. There was a man in the kitchen. He was tall and thin with closely cropped black hair, and he was wearing a brown robe with an intricately knotted rope belt. He was cooking something on the small stove.

"Uh, Dom Ignacio?" I questioned hesitantly.

He swung around and smiled at me. He didn't look a day over twenty, but I knew to be here, he had to be approaching thirty. Any way you looked at it, he was a far cry from my imaginings. "Yes. Hello. You're Stephanie. I'm making you breakfast." He turned away and picked up a mug from the counter and handed it to me. I took a sip. It was heaven, or at least heavenly. The coffee was rich and hot and exactly what I'd needed.

"Where's Ranger?" I asked. "Is he okay?"

Dom Ignacio's brow furrowed for a moment and then he smiled. "Ah, Ranger—Carlos is doing much better. He is sleeping. Padre Armando stayed with him and tended to him all night, and he is comfortable now. You eat, and I will answer any questions I can. Padre Armando will be here to talk with you soon. He will have details."

I was hungry, and the food smelled wonderful, but I wanted to see Ranger. "Can I see him? Am I allowed?" I asked.

"Yes, of course, you can see him. It's a monastery, not a prison."

I wasn't sure. Father Armando said he'd be in a cell.

Dom Ignacio smiled, and I asked, "Was I thinking out loud?"

He placed a plate on the table and motioned for me to sit. I did, and he sat across from me with a cup of coffee in front of him. I picked up my fork to eat and then set it down. I bent my head in prayer and mumbled something I hoped was unintelligible. It had been a long time since I'd said grace before a meal, but I thought this was a good time to start. I was grateful for this meal and for the care Ranger was getting.

The plate was filled with scrambled eggs mixed with tomatoes and onion and my first bite immediately led to a second. There were also two round biscuits. They were warm and tasted like cornbread and they were better than my mother's cornbread, but I wouldn't be telling her that. I finished my meal with a slice of some kind of melon that was unfamiliar to me. It must have been Venezuelan dessert. Dom Ignacio had let me eat in silence. When my plate was empty he topped off my cup with more rich, delicious coffee and once again sat down across from me.

"Thank you," I told him. "The meal was delicious, and this coffee is wonderful. Maybe the best I've ever tasted."

"Thank you," he responded. "We grow the beans here and grind our own blend. It's very caffeinated. You might want to limit your intake until you become used to it."

My eyebrows raised in surprise. "You make your own coffee?"

"Yes, it's one of the ways we support ourselves here. We have different blends and sell it virtually all over the world, thanks to the Internet."

"You speak English very well. I can't even hear an accent," I said. "Are you from Venezuela?"

"Yes, I am. My family lives in the southern part of the country. I speak English well because I went to school at Notre Dame. I hold a master's degree in Catholic Theology. Actually, I speak five languages and, at one time, thought of becoming a priest and being a missionary, but I've found my place here."

"Are you,"—I hesitated looking for the right words—"Are you like the CEO?" He looked at me quizzically.

"Of the coffee production," I clarified. "Are you in charge of the coffee sales on the Internet? I mean, because of your education and language skills?"

Dom Ignacio laughed out loud. So much for their vow of silence. "I am in charge of nothing," he said. "I spend my days in prayer and meditation, and I work where I am needed; sometimes in the field with the cattle or sometimes I bag and ship coffee beans. Today I am helping the young American woman acclimate to her stay at the monastery."

"But why?" I questioned. "Why would you stay here? With your education and talent you could choose to be someplace less remote, I'm sure."

"We're not as remote as you might think. I understand you came up the side of the mountain on foot to avoid being seen by de Franco's men. Padre Armando told me you are a bond enforcement agent and work closely with Carlos. I choose to be here for the same reason I imagine you choose to be a bounty hunter. Just as you serve by bringing criminals back into the system to be made accountable for their wrong doing, I find I serve through a quiet life of prayer and introspection."

I was quiet, my mind still tripping over the idea I chose to be a bounty hunter. I'd have to think about it being a service to mankind at another time. I looked up to see Dom Ignacio stand. He was smiling at me.

"I see I've given you cause for meditation. It happens here at the monastery. I'm going to leave you here now. There is food prepared for you in the refrigerator. Padre Armando will be by. He will tell you the details of his treatment of Carlos. You've had a difficult trip up the mountain, and you should rest, but you are by no means confined to this space. The building behind this guest house is the retreat house. There is a library and Internet access if you desire. There is daily Mass in the chapel at six in the evening. The bells will ring and call the monks to worship. You are welcome but not obligated to attend."

After Dom Ignacio left, I sat and replayed our conversation in my mind. Maybe there was something to the contemplative way of life. I chose to become a bounty hunter. My life was in chaos most of the time, and when the chaos became too scary, Ranger stepped in to smooth things out. Was it possible I chose chaos as a way of bringing Ranger closer to me? Maybe it was time to make another choice.

I heard a knock on the guest house door and rose to answer it, glad to have something interrupt my train of thought. It was Father Armando. I stood in the doorway and peered at him. His face was serene, and it didn't look like bad news was forthcoming, but I immediately asked, "How's Ranger?"

"He's doing well, sleeping at the present. He woke a while ago and drank some water. His fever has broken, and he is scheduled for his second dose of penicillin after lunch. I think the infection is under control. You did a good job of patching him up with your limited first aid supplies, and he's strong and healthy. He'll be back to normal soon." Father Armando was still standing in the doorway. "May I come in?" he asked. I blushed with the realization I had been blocking his entrance.

"I'm sorry," I said stepping back. "I'm still not thinking quite straight, but I did finally get some good sleep."

Father Armando smiled. "You didn't enjoy the hike up the mountain?"

"No," I said with surety. "It would have been different if Ranger wasn't injured, or if we'd had appropriate provisions, or even if we could have traveled in the daylight. This trip was a definite change of plans due to Ranger's getting shot."

Father Armando was silent for a moment giving thought to what I'd said. "Stephanie," he said, "I'd like to ask you to stay in this guesthouse today. Carlos should be well enough to talk with you by this evening or tomorrow. I want him to be able to come to you, because we can easily disguise him as one of us. He told me a little about your problem with de Franco, and while I have every reason to believe you are safe here, I do think de Franco could have men looking for you. We are on the top of the mountain and remote, but I wouldn't want someone looking to see you moving about. He glanced at my hair and I remembered it must be a wild mess. "You are uniquely recognizable in this setting, and I would hate for your safety to be compromised. If I know Carlos, he will have a plan, and I'd like you to stay somewhat hidden until he gives the okay for you to move about."

That sounded logical to me. After all, we'd just spent the last two nights traveling up the mountain under cover of darkness. Yesterday I'd slept during the daylight hours, but I'd had Ranger to keep me occupied. The thought of the day stretching out in front of me was daunting. As if reading my thoughts, Father Armando said, "I can have a computer and a sat phone sent to you. We have a secure satellite network here, because of our coffee business. It's how we keep in touch with the outside world when necessary. You can make phone calls and send emails and not have to worry about the secrecy of your location being compromised."

After Father Armando left, I made an attempt to fix my hair. I had limited capabilities and there wasn't a mirror to be found. I heard a knock on the door and opened it to find Dom Ignacio with a lap top in one hand and a cell phone in the other. I thanked him, and he hurried away. I didn't know who to e-mail or call, so I searched the Internet for any news relating to Jolie de Franco. I read the _Times _and the _Trentonian_ and found nothing helpful.

I decided to call Tank. I didn't think Ranger had been in touch. He answered on the first ring with typical RangeMan phone etiquette. "Talk."

"It's Stephanie," I said. "Are you on a secure phone?"

"Are you?"

"Yes," I said, "but before we talk, I wanted to make sure you were."

"I'll call you back."

"But you don't know the number…" I was speaking to a dead phone. The phone in my hand began to vibrate.

"Hello," I said. I had no idea how he was able to call me back.

"Now we can talk. Why are you calling? Did something happen to Ranger?"

"Yes, but he'll be okay. Our plans changed though. I'm supposed to be on a secure phone. How did you call me back? Do you know where I am?"

"Don't talk about location," Tank advised. "I can return the call, but I have no idea where you are. We are both secure."

"Okay. Did the information Ranger sent get to the right places?"

"Yes, it did. Morelli and Higgins are expecting de Franco back in Trenton later today. He should be in custody by tomorrow at the latest. When will you be back?"

"It's complicated," I said. "I'll be seeing Ranger later today and then I'll probably know more. He was shot while he was in de Franco's office, but he is getting treatment, and he will be fine. Ranger got away from the shooter, but we think de Franco suspects it was Ranger in his office. Even if de Franco leaves the area, we may not be able to move about freely. He may have put out a bounty on us. I'm sure you will hear from Ranger as soon as he can contact you."

"If I don't hear from Ranger by the time de Franco is in custody, you and I will need to talk again. Will you still be available at this number?"

"Yes," I said, hoping that he wouldn't have reason to call back. I disconnected and sat pondering my next move.

I considered calling Joe and decided against making contact. Joe hadn't been happy about letting me participate in the operation to start with, and he'd be very upset once Tank apprised him of Ranger's injury. I'd let Tank deal with Joe's Italian temper.

The day passed surprisingly quickly. I ate a cold lunch of fruit and bread and enjoyed another mug of coffee. I looked out the windows of the guesthouse and watched clouds roll in and cool the afternoon off with a rain shower and then I took a long nap. I sat up on the small bed and realized the ringing bells had awakened me. It was time for evening Mass. Dom Ignacio told me I would be welcome, but Father Armando told me to stay hidden. I was going to follow the Prior's advice, and when darkness fell, I was going to find Ranger.

I made a quick visit to the bathroom and meandered into the main room. I stood indecisively for a moment. I could eat and there was food, or I could get back on the Internet and do more searching. The decision was made for me when the door opened silently, and a monk slipped inside. His face was hidden completely by the brown hood, but I needed no introduction. I rushed to him and placed my hand on his forehead. It was cool.

"Well," I said. "This isn't typical RangeMan attire."

"Babe." He walked me over to the small sofa and motioned for me to sit. He continued to stand in front of me. I reached out for his hand to pull him down next to me, but he shook his head. "Armando has cured me of the infection," he said. "But the cure was not without its own pain. It's more comfortable for me to stand."

I wrinkled my brow and then smiled as understanding hit. "Penicillin shot?" I asked.

"Yes," Ranger said. "One in each hip."

"Let me see your wound," I demanded. "I want to see that it's better."

"It's better. It's bandaged and you can't see it, but Armando has given me enough penicillin, and administered enough holistic poultices that I'm well on my way to recovery. I hear you called Tank."

"Yes, you talked to him, too?"

"Yes, and we've formulated a plan. Tonight you will be smuggled out of here in one of the monastery vans. They sometimes go into Merida for supplies, and tonight you will accompany them. Hector is in Merida and he will get you out of the country and back to Trenton. You'll be traveling as Mr. and Mrs. Juan Diaz, and you will have appropriate paperwork."

"Aren't you coming?"

"No," he hesitated. "I need to stay here for a time. I think, Stephanie, we've been betrayed by someone within the DEA. The only way de Franco could have gotten his hands on those pictures of you was with inside help. Tank has talked with Morelli, and we all feel the informant is not with Trenton PD. That leaves the DEA, and that points the finger directly at Roy Higgins. Tank is doing background checks now, looking for unexplained deposits in his accounts or seeing if he lives above his means. We're looking for anything that would point to another source of income and then we will have information that will allow the authorities to officially investigate."

"I'll stay here with you." I stood up and walked toward him. I pushed the hood back off his head and ran my fingers through his hair. "I'll stay until you go back."

"Stephanie, I'm anonymous here. You're not. You need to be back in Trenton. You need to tell Morelli everything that happened down here. If there is an informant in the DEA, Morelli is going to hear de Franco caught us in bed together. You need to make sure Morelli knows what was really going on."

"Hah," I exclaimed. "Morelli won't like it any better if he knows it was just a show. Morelli doesn't like you and me together in any scenario."

"All the more reason for you to get back to Trenton."

It was less than twenty-four hours since we'd arrived on the mountain top, but the Ranger I'd traveled up the mountain with was MIA. This Ranger was one I'd seen before. He was sending me back to Morelli, and this wasn't the first time he'd done so.

He read my mind. "It's back to where you came from, Babe. It's where you need to be."

I stood and walked toward him and placed my hands on his hips. I pulled him close to me and heard his soft moan. It might have been because I was caressing his bilateral injection sites, but the hardening I felt against my abdomen made me think it was something else entirely. It also made me wonder just what he was wearing under the monk's robe. He could control his words and his facial expressions, but his body didn't lie. He wanted me. I had this small power over him, and I was going to use it to my advantage.

"I'll go," I said. "I'll trust Hector to get me back safely. I'll cooperate with the Trenton PD and the DEA. I'll tell Morelli the truth. I'll tell him it was just a ploy, that we weren't really making love, but if time and circumstances had been different, we would have been making love. I'll tell him it's over between us, and then I'll move into RangeMan where Tank can keep me safe from the DEA informant." I backed Ranger into the wall and wrapped my arms around him, being careful not to put pressure on his shoulder wound. His arms came around me and pulled me in even closer as his lips came down on mine. His kiss was incendiary. Desire ignited low in my belly, and my need was quadrupled by his loss of control. I was ready to pull him to the floor and lift the robe over his hips. I was going to have my wild and wicked way with him. And then we heard the sharp rap on the door. We broke apart to see the door open, and Father Armando step inside.

**TBC…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I just want to send a big congratulations shout out to all of you who have been writing like mad in the annual NaNoWriMo Project. I am exceptionally proud of my writing partner Sonomom, who not only participated and is nearly completed with her 50,000 word total, but also continued her work on this story and her newly posted story 'RangeMan Insecurity' at the same time. And she holds a full time job, as well. I'm in awe of your fearless attempts, your dedication, and your talent, and I hope you are happy and proud of your work.**

**Lori**

**latetolove**

*****.***.*****

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Eight: Solemn Goodbyes**

**Armando's POV**

As I stepped into the room, it was obvious that I had interrupted a very private moment between Carlos and Stephanie. She blushed as she stepped away from his embrace, but never took her eyes off Carlos. While Stephanie's reaction to their romantic situation was plain on her face, I could only assume that Carlos' loose fitting robe was covering his own. He reached for her hand in assurance, and she sighed in relief.

"Carlos, there's a call for you." I held up the phone. "I believe the man said his name is Tank."

Carlos nodded, took the phone and turned toward Stephanie. "I asked him to call me when everything was set with Hector and he had the details of your return flight. After that, I'll need to get back with Hector for some final instructions."

"Why don't you take the call in the bedroom? It's just through that door."

At Stephanie's suggestion, Carlos disappeared behind the bedroom door. As soon as he was out of sight she turned her focus on me with fierce resolve. "He's staying with you, Father. Why?" I could see the hurt in her eyes.

"What did he tell you?" I did not want to break a confidence, but I also did not want her to go away frustrated and in pain.

"He didn't tell me anything, really. Just that he needed to stay." Stephanie was exasperated by my lack of forthrightness. She sighed and looked down at the floor. "He's distancing himself from me again. He's hurting, and I don't know how to help when he pushes me away."

"His wound will heal in time…"

Stephanie sharply raised her face to mine. "It's not his wound causing him so much pain. It's…it's me...it's us."

I closed the distance between us in order for her to understand the significance of the discretion I put on my counsel. "Do you love Carlos, Stephanie?"

"Very much," she admitted in almost a whisper. "For a long time now. But he holds me at a distance and won't let me in. I really thought we had made some progress in the last few days, but I think he's afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"I don't know. Me, maybe. I used to think that he was afraid of commitment. I thought the whole 'tied down to one woman' idea freaked him out. But Ranger is the most committed person I know. He's committed to his men. He's committed to his business. He's committed to the job he does for the government. He's even committed to me. He's proven it over and over again. There's nothing he wouldn't do for me…except…"

"Let you in?"

"Yes," she responded with tears threatening in her eyes. "He also admitted that there's someone else in his life. A relationship that is 'undefined' as he put it."

"Did he tell you who this woman was?"

"No. I didn't ask."

I stepped even closer to her and placed my hand on her shoulder in comfort. "Stephanie, when Carlos was with us before, he had just been through something very difficult."

"I know, he told me about the injuries and how you saved him."

I had to be careful here. It was obvious that Carlos had not revealed to her all of his reasons for staying before or staying this time either. "It was not just the physical injuries that kept him with us for all of those months. He struggled greatly with his soul as well. I can't provide you details that are his to share, but trust me when I say that if you give him some time to be here with us, Carlos will heal as he did before. And I truly believe he will return to you."

There was relief in her eyes, and she choked back the tears as if my words had been a gift to her careworn and tortured heart. "How much time, Father?"

"I do not know. It is hard to say. God has his own agenda, and it will be on his terms. My brothers and I will take good care of him for you. Carlos is very special to us, and we will freely offer him guidance and support in his journey."

"I believe that, Father. I trust you, but…"

"Do you trust Carlos?"

Her reply was immediate. "Yes."

"Then go back to Trenton and finish your work. Leave Carlos here, and we will finish ours."

Stephanie smiled and nodded her head in concession, and, at the same time, the bedroom door opened, signaling Carlos' return. He handed me the phone, and I excused myself from the room to give them their privacy.

Stephanie Plum was a fighter. A perfect match for Carlos Manoso.

**Ranger's POV**

I completed my call to Hector and took a deep breath before returning to Stephanie. She had caught me completely off guard with her forward declaration and the kiss that followed. _"Dios her mouth could make my head spin." _I had so much to think about, but this mission had to come first. I needed to get Stephanie safely out of the country and into the protection my men could provide for her at Haywood. Her job was technically over, but as always happens with Stephanie, it didn't end there. She had once again been unwittingly drawn onto the radar of a very dangerous bastard. Tank's news from Trenton had me worried that de Franco could be desperate for revenge. I trusted Hector to get her safely back to the states, but it was killing me not to be there to make sure no one hurt her. And that is why I had to stay. I didn't want to be the one to hurt her either. I had always had a plan for Stephanie's place in my life, and that plan was no longer going to work. I needed time to figure out if I could make sense of my past, and then order my life to include her in it. I knew I could only do that here. This place had saved me before, and I was counting on it doing the same for me now.

"Babe," I whispered into the top of her head as I pulled her into an embrace. "Dom Ignacio will be leaving soon. Hector will meet you in Merida as planned. You two are booked on a midnight flight out of San Cristobal. He'll have picked up some clothes for you to change into when you meet up. You'll need to look as inconspicuous as possible to remain undetected by de Franco's men.

Stephanie pulled back in my arms. I could see the unshed tears she was trying to restrain. "I'll be careful." She looked like she wanted to say more but was holding back. She stared into my eyes, and several emotions flashed across her face before she spoke again. "Ranger, I meant what I said before. I won't let you walk away from me again. I plan to fight for us this time. Sending me back to Joe and limiting our relationship to covert meetings in the alley, thinly veiled groping sessions with wireless mics, and platonic nights in the same bed are not going to be options anymore." She placed both her hands on either side of my face. "It would be easier if I wasn't fighting you, too." Her fingers lightly traced my lips. "But I will if I have to."

I had seen that look of determination on her face before. When Stephanie Plum made up her mind to go after something, or someone, nothing could stop her. I loved that about her. I clutched one of her hands in mine and kissed each finger, then laid her palm against my face and leaned into it. I closed my eyes and absorbed her warmth. "I want to fight for us, too," I reverently whispered. I opened my eyes, and her gaze was still focused solidly on me, but her demeanor had changed to one of surprise and hopefulness. "But I have to fight from here…for now, querida. I need time." I didn't think she would understand. I was braced for an argument.

"I know," she softly voiced. For the first time since I had reentered the room Stephanie lowered her eyes away from mine. "I'm asking a lot from you. Maybe more than you're able to give. I understand that, and if staying here for a while allows you to heal and helps you to navigate past the obstacles that are keeping you from me, then I want you to stay."

I lifted her chin to face me again. "I _do_ love you, Amada. I think I always have. I'm doing this for us, believe me."

The long held tears finally escaped, and I trapped them with my thumbs against her cheeks. My heart was torn with the idea of separating from her for, God only knew, how long.

Stephanie threw her arms around my neck and pulled me closer than we had already been standing. Once again our lips met. She teased my mouth with her tongue, and I opened to her. Immediately, there was a sense of determination and intensity that I hadn't felt from her before. Her passion fed mine, and I was drawn fiercely into her strategic orbit. She was claiming me as her own and leaving no doubt that she would make good on her promise to end it with Morelli. I refused to break contact, banning the words that were swarming my thoughts. Promises I couldn't make. I wanted to tell her to stay. I wanted more time. I wanted Stephanie to be mine. The frenzy between us amplified, and I lost control as my thoughts and actions turned primal. This time I pushed her against the wall and lifted her left leg around my hip, linking us together in the most basal of ways. I pulled her shirt from the waistband of her jeans and slid my hand up to her breast. I internalized her moans of pleasure as consent to continue, and my one dedicated thought was to take her right then and there. To allow no misunderstanding of the desire I felt for her. Then, as if we had both received the same cerebral message of propriety, we broke apart, and our eyes locked. Her chest heaved against mine, and our ragged breaths blended in the air between us. We held our position wordlessly for several moments. For the first time, the communication between us was in sync.

The sound of a vehicle approaching the guesthouse brought us back to the reality of what needed to happen next. Stephanie slowly lowered her leg from my waist and relaxed back against the wall. I place my hands on either side of her head and leaned in for another kiss. The fierce hunger was gone, but we had consensually replaced it with tender devotion.

"I want you to do whatever it is you need to do here. Pray, chant, genuflect, petition," she shook her head back and forth. "I don't know…beg God Almighty himself if you have to." There were tears in her eyes now as the emotional weight of the situation bared down on us both. She leaned into me one final time and delivered a last passionate kiss. She slid her mouth to my ear and whispered, "Figure us out, Ranger. I'll be coming back to check on your progress."

I nodded, and she slipped past me and headed for the bedroom. Seconds later, she returned with her purse, the duffel bag, and a small stack of my clothes.

"Not that I'm complaining, because that robe definitely has possibilities," she teasingly said as she handed me the folded garments, "but burlap brown is _not _your color. I much prefer you in bad-ass black."

She tried to immediately retreat, but I grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her to me. "Te amo, Stephanie." The words were husky, but meaningful, as they left my mouth.

She gave me a small, reassuring smile and said, "I know, Ranger. Now you just have to work out what to do about it."

Stephanie reluctantly stepped away from me, and I followed her to the door. Outside, Dom Ignacio gave me a knowing look as he sat in the driver's seat of the small black minivan. "The back seats have been removed to make room for the supplies I will be picking up. There is a blanket back there for some comfort. I am afraid some of the trip will be rather bumpy."

Stephanie smirked as she stepped through the sliding door. "Two thousand miles from home and I'm still being whisked to safety in a black vehicle with tinted windows." She settled herself on the floor and grabbed the blanket. "Only this time, instead of it being a Merry Man, I've got Friar Tuck watching over me."

There was a rumble of laughter from the driver. Obviously he understood and appreciated the reference, if not its relevance.

I reached into the van and took Stephanie's hand. She returned my grip with a strong and firm squeeze. Our eyes held. "Don't get shot, Babe."

"Don't go crazy, Ranger."

I slid the door shut, and Dom Ignacio drove off. I followed the progress of the van until its taillights were no longer visible. It was well after six by now, and evening Mass was already underway. I took one final look in the direction in which the van had carried her away. Stephanie had her demons to conquer, and I had mine. Never one to put off a difficult task, I lifted the hood of my postulant's robe to cover my head and slowly paced my way down the mountain to the small ancient chapel.

**Hector's POV**

I'd been cooling my heels in a pretty decent San Cristobal hotel for the last forty-eight hours. I had left the car as scheduled, and knowing chica as I did, I had even stocked her with a few good emergency provisions. The plan had been that she and the boss would high-tail it to Caracas and catch a flight back to the states. The eleven hour drive would not have been pleasant, but Ranger had figured that it would be best to avoid the local airport and the fallout from de Franco's wrath. He had been right. My job had been to analyze and neutralize the security of de Franco's office, and I was to hang around afterwards to report any activity that would result from the break-in, before catching my own flight home. There had been plenty of activity. I could pinpoint, within minutes, the time that de Franco's system had rebooted and Ranger's work had been discovered. My hotel room in San Cristobal had provided a perfect view of the resort. This bastard had some big ass sons-of-bitches on his payroll, and at 5:15 yesterday morning four cars pulled up to a side entrance, and eight men unloaded and stormed into the building. They were dressed, but not for vacation. Thirty minutes later they exited and took off in different directions. Search teams.

It wasn't until this afternoon that Tank had called and informed me that the escape plan had been altered. Now I stood at the entrance to an alley, next to my new hotel in Merida, waiting for a monk to deliver Bonita, so I could get her on a plane. A monk, for crying out loud! Dios, how does she do it? I haven't so much as seen the inside of a church since my mamá's funeral, and she ends up at a monastery instead of an airport!

The black minivan pulled up, and the side door slid open. I nodded at the driver and gave him a friendly greeting in Spanish. I grabbed my friend's hand and pulled her directly into a back door of the hotel that I had propped open for a quick exit from public view. We didn't speak as we navigated the hallways and stairs, and we made it back to my room in less than a minute.

Once the door was shut, I turned to point out some clothes on the bed, but Stephanie was gone. The bathroom door clicked closed, and I smiled. When she returned to the room, she had a very relieved look on her face. "Do you know how hard it is not to swear in front of a priest when he's driving right over every damn pothole in the road, and you feel like your bladder is going to burst?"

I chuckled at her comment, but then I took a closer look at her. She was tired. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. I opened my arms, and she fell into them. "Have you eaten dinner yet?"

She shook her head without lifting it from my chest. I didn't let go, but walked us, as a single unit, closer to the bed and sat down, so that she ended up in my lap. I grabbed the phone and ordered something from room service.

The meal seemed to lift Stephanie's spirits and her energy level. She turned her attention away from her empty plate and focused on the clothes I had picked out for her to wear. She fingered the fabric of the colorful cotton dress. "Do I have time for a shower?" she looked pleadingly for a nod from me.

"We have to leave in an hour, mi esposa."

She smiled and dashed into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later she stepped out wrapped in a robe. She dug through her purse and came up with a hair brush and comb. I pulled out the chair from the desk and patted the seat, and she gave me a skewed look. "What do you want? I have to get this hair combed out and tamed."

"Sit," I commanded. When she didn't respond, I physically steered her into the chair by her shoulders. "You need to blend in. With your hair down, you might as well wear a sign saying "I am Stephanie Plum. Shoot me."

"You're a comedian."

I lifted the comb from her hand. "I used to do this for my sister, when my mother became too sick to do it for her." It had been a while, but the familiarity of the routine returned in an instant. I coaxed the tangles out and began at the top of her head.

"Hector, you know how to French braid hair?"

"Si," I replied. "For two days, I watched the people of the city go by from the window in my hotel room in San Cristobal. This is a popular hairstyle for women there. With the dress and a scarf draped over your head, you will look like any other woman who lives there." The moment I spoke, I noticed the stark difference between our skin colors. "To bad we don't have time for a spray tan, Chica."

I couldn't see her face, but I could feel her eyes rolling at my comment before she said, "I didn't know you have a sister. Does she live in Trenton?"

"No. I sent her to live with my Tia Yelena in Puerto Rico after our mamá died. She was a good girl. I didn't want her to take a bad turn. Staying with me would not have been good for her."

"Why?"

"I was already involved in the local gang. I was in too deep, and she would have been expected to follow me."

"How old is she now?"

I had to calculate in my head. I didn't celebrate my birthday anymore and had to think twice about my own age. "I'm twenty-nine now, and she was born when I was eight."

Stephanie didn't say anything more after that. I finished her hair, and she stepped into the bathroom to change. She came out several minutes later with a smile on her face. "The dress fits perfectly. Are you sure you're not related to Ella?"

I handed her a pair of ballet-like flat shoes, and she slipped them onto her feet, giving me another look when they fit perfectly, too. "Why don't you pack up what you'll need on the plane, and we'll take off?"

She busied herself with collecting her clothes and a few of the cosmetics and tools from the bathroom. Before we stepped out of the room, she placed the blue scarf over her head and put her hand on my shoulder to get my attention. "Hector, your sister is twenty-one now; a grown woman who can make her own decisions. When was the last time you saw her?"

"When I put her on the plane in Newark eleven years ago." Saying the words out loud made me realize the distance I'd put between us and the unbelievable amount of time that had gone by.

"Where is she now?"

"She stayed in Puerto Rico. She goes to school there."

Stephanie nodded her head. "She's lucky to have you as a brother. And I'm lucky to have you as a friend. You're a good man, Hector. You kept us both safe."

I swallowed the emotion that threatened to surface from her statement. I had been a gang member. I had killed for revenge. I had spent time in jail. No one had ever called me a good man.

We reached the airport an hour before our flight was set to depart. Bonita wanted to make a stop in one of the airport stores to pick up a couple of magazines and some snacks for the long flight ahead. She had just paid for her purchases, and we were fulfilling our role as husband and wife by holding hands as we walked with the light flow of traffic moving toward the security checkpoint, when Stephanie abruptly grabbed me by the arm and led me into a small concavity between two shops. She pulled my face close to hers, pasted on a sweet, but overdone, smile and ordered, "Kiss me."

I looked at her confused, but placed a chaste kiss against her lips, leaned back slightly, and mumbled, "What's up, Bonita?"

"Juan, darling," she said with a hint of disappointment, "you're supposed to be my husband; you're going to have to do better than that. We're being watched. I recognize that man standing next to the entrance to the restroom. He's one of de Franco's musclemen from the resort, and he knows me. Although, I'm not sure he was paying too much attention to my face at the time."

As I was trying to decipher her last puzzling statement, she pulled me closer, but this time with her hands around my neck, and she plastered me with a long, romantic kiss, incorporating plenty of lip action. I did my best to play along. It wasn't unenjoyable.

Since my back was to the threat, I decided to let her keep an eye on him. My job was to keep her protected, so I allowed my body to keep hers blocked from view and continued to maintain the role of an attentive lover. I pulled back from the kiss to get some much needed air. "Damn, Bonita!" I said with a broad smile on my face. I pulled her closer with my arms around her waist so that we were connected from the hips up. "If you had kissed the boss like that, maybe he wouldn't have sent you away?"

"I did!" she said, a little annoyed, but still distracted by her inconspicuous observation of the man across the concourse.

I nuzzled her neck, allowing her to retain a visual over my shoulder. "What did you say to him?"

Breaking her surveillance, Stephanie abruptly pulled back to look directly at my face with widened eyes. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but didn't, as if she had thought better of it. A mischievous look replaced her attempt to talk, and she rose on her toes as she leaned into me with her full weight. I tightened my grip around her waist to hold our balance. She, once again, pulled me to her; the playful look never wavering. With her arms still around my neck, she slowly put her lips against mine and kissed me deeply and, this time, with tongue. The action provoked a response in me typically triggered only by a man. The kiss lasted a good fifteen seconds, and there was moaning involved. It might have been me. When she pulled back from the kiss, her look had changed from playful to resolute. "I kissed him like that," she whispered breathlessly, "and I told him I was coming back for him." In a gesture familiar among lovers, she used her thumb to wipe the lipstick off my mouth and scanned the crowd over my shoulder. "He's gone. Now get me on that plane, Hector. We've got some bad guys to catch in Trenton."

I took her hand and pulled her toward the gate while muttering, "Santo Dios, mujer! El jefe no tiene ninguna posibilidad." _("Holy God, woman! The boss doesn't stand a chance.")_

**TBC…**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Thanks to all who have left reviews of support and inquiry. We continue to appreciate and enjoy every single one. Enjoy today's post.**

*****.***.*****

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Nine: ****Coming to Terms**

**Ranger's POV**

The air in the small chapel erased the years as I became engulfed in its familiar scent and feel. I had spent many hours in this forgotten, sacred space, and while small changes triggered by time and neglect were evident even in the dim light, it was still the same. The same hand-built, pine pews marred and worn by ages of use, still lined the short nave. Remaining incised on the chapel's arch above the apse, read the traditional Benedictine motto; "in omnibus glorificetur Deus," _"In all things may God be glorified". _The same, simple, stone altar still sat fixed on its dais, waiting patiently to hold the Tabernacle containing the Eucharist. And, suspended above it, the same bronze Crucifix hung on the wall. In comparison to its dingy and worn setting, the humble relic was oddly polished and shiny, and it beckoned me to share in its offered respite.

As I obeyed its call and moved down the aisle toward the altar, I was overcome by a wave of nostalgia that recalled, all at once, the security, the reprieve, the joy and the pain I had borne the last time I had stood in this room. But alongside those feelings and emotions, came the memories of how I had coped with my struggle. Unusual words and phrases, that had once been a common part of my lexis among the brothers here, but which had been quickly lost when I had resumed my place in the secular world, instantly sprung to my thoughts and lips. The Canonical Hours of Matins, Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers and Compline, and the elements of Mass; Aspérges, Canon, Epiclesis, and Ablutions had given me restorative order and ritual to follow. Having been raised by my abuela, I had been familiar with the basic tenets of the Catholic Church. She had drawn great strength from her steadfast religious devotion and had insisted I attend with her. But I had been less devout, and when I moved away at eighteen, my connection with the church had gone as neglected as this chapel. When I first arrived here seven years ago, I had been surprised by the comfort I had felt and the ease in which I had found my place here. Although, much like my military training, the required, absolute structure of the daily life at the monastery had given me focus over my anger and confusion.

I ran my hand along the smooth grain of the pews, and a sense of pardon fought for my attention as echoes of Armando's wise and judicious counsel, which had been instilled many times in this very chapel and had offered absolution from my grief and guilt, reverberated through my mind.

The joy and pain were different. While I had been able, eventually, to compartmentalize those feelings enough to leave the monastery and continue my life, I was no stranger to the stark, stinging memories. Through the years, thoughts of her had haunted me, as they did now. The reminiscence of her face, her voice, her touch, her smell, had come to me at times when it was least expected or desired. Most of the time, it caught me off guard, and I had to work hard to keep the potent emotions it elicited from consuming me. Now…, here…, her presence was stronger than ever; brought to life by the power of this place...this sanctuary where I had worked so desperately to lay it to rest it.

I reached the front pew, respectfully genuflected, took a seat, and gave myself over to the memories. I owed her that much. I owed it to myself. I owed it to Stephanie. Armando had tried, in vain, to get me to value the time I had been given with her as a gift and to accept her loss as God's will. But the pain of her death had been too great, and his words, much of the time, had fallen on deaf ears. Perhaps now, if I could face it all once more with the perspective time and my experiences had given me, I could finally make peace with the heartbreak and fear, and I could take with me only the good I had found in her soul and the love I had found in her arms.

The hours of the night passed, and I found myself reliving every single moment of that anguished time as if it had happened only yesterday. A testament of how significant she had been to me, even the most inconsequential details had remained pure and vivid in my mind.

**Armando's POV**

Immediately following morning prayers, I searched for Carlos. Shortly before Stephanie had left last night, I had asked him to meet me after the Compline prayer in order to change his bandages. When he had failed to show, I had checked his cell and found it empty. I had checked it twice more before I retired for the night, with the same results. I'd had a suspicion, at the time, where he had gone and why, but I had made the decision to leave him to his solitary reflection.

I entered the chapel and, even at this pre-dawn hour, found it necessary to give my eyes time to adjust to its much darker interior. I spotted him hunched forward in the front pew with his head in his hands. He was so still, anyone else might have assumed he was asleep, but I knew better. Carlos had an amazing capacity for mental focus and devotion, and I was sure he had been in this same position for hours, if not all night, awake and completely engaged in contemplation. I walked the short distance down the aisle, gave a shallow genuflection, necessary because of the arthritic pain in my left knee I tended to suffer each morning, and took a seat directly behind him.

"Good morning, Father." Carlos' voice was rough from a long night of disuse.

"Carlos," I simply replied. It was like old times. On many occasions, our consultative conversations had begun just like this. He would acknowledge my presence and I, his. I would then wait, for I never knew where his thoughts had taken him and what his needs were until he would speak again.

Several minutes passed before he asked, "Has there been a call?"

I was thrown by this question. I did not expect it and had to spend a few quick seconds deciphering its intended meaning. "A call? Ahhh, you mean a phone call?"

"Yes," he replied, still not looking up.

"But you said that Stephanie's plane would not arrive back in New Jersey until later this morning. You would only hear from Tank this early if something…"

"Had gone wrong." His menacing words cut off my own.

"Well then, Carlos, put your fears to rest. The phone has been quiet. If we are still here in a couple of hours when Tank calls to tell you that she has safely landed, Brother Ignacio will let you know. I told him where you could be found."

Carlos was quiet for several moments, possibly to embrace the relief of his worry for Stephanie's safety. When he spoke again, the weariness in his voice was heartbreaking. "Do you think of her?"

Suddenly I was questioning the wisdom of leaving him here alone all night to be tortured by his memories. I knew we were no longer talking about Stephanie. "I remember her every day in my prayers, Carlos, as I do you."

"She's beyond the need for your prayers, Padre, and I'm…"

He didn't finish his sentence, but his voice was flat and emotionally void, and I could make an educated guess as to where his mind was headed. "Do you know what I remember most about Yessenia, Carlos?" I paused, but did not expect him to answer. "She always entered a room like she was presenting a gift. She literally emanated goodwill and grace with just that glorious smile of hers." I sat back in the pew and allowed my own memories to project. "And you could not help being pulled into her aura of positive energy. She was like that even as a young girl. Of course, I was several years older than her, but she was the only child of the wealthiest and most important family in town. Everyone knew who she was." It dawned on me that maybe this was a story that Carlos needed to hear. When he had been with us before, I had not shared much of my personal history with her. He had known that Yessi and I were from the same village, and that we had been friends, but I had intentionally kept my relationship with Carlos professional and had focused on his pastoral needs. Perhaps, now he needed a friend; someone to share his grief and not explain it, so I continued. "For generations, her family's money had ensured the continued prosperity and security of our village, making sure even the poorest residents had access to the basic necessities required for a decent life. It is an old and mostly forgotten custom in the smaller villages and towns in South America, but it was still strongly observed in Tabay. Expectations had been set before her since birth to continue the family legacy, and she lived up to them. When her parents died, Yessi was only 22 years old, but she stepped into her father's shoes and watched over the welfare of the town and its people with nothing less than total devotion."

"She was the reason I was in Tabay. She was responsible for getting our government involved in the plot to get rid of Ruiz." I was pleased that Carlos was listening to me and felt at ease enough to add to the conversation.

"Yes," I confirmed, "she spoke to me several times about her concerns. The priest of the town's only Catholic Church was quite elderly and frequently ill. I often came down from the monastery to provide assistance with the daily mass, weddings, baptisms and funerals when needed. She came to see me every time I was here. It was not unusual for us to spend hours talking about the town and its needs and her desires and plans to make things better. Although she never begrudged her inherited position as 'trustee' of Tabay, she very much felt the burden of such a great responsibility and often questioned her own abilities and strengths to do it well."

I could tell my story was having an effect on Carlos. He was now relaxed against the back of his pew, and he had lifted his head. "She was one of the strongest women I had ever met, but having you to confide in was a good thing. I'm glad you were there for her."

"Oh, I hope so, Carlos. I tried. It was very difficult for me, as a former soldier, to obey my vows and sit back to watch her fight those battles, especially when Eduardo Ruiz came to town."

At the mention of Eduardo Ruiz's name, his shoulders sagged, and I felt we had taken a step backward. I leaned forward so that my face was positioned just over his injured left shoulder. "Carlos, for all the personal anguish and suffering it has caused both you and I, Yessi did what she believed she had to do. Her commitment to that commendable family legacy was who she _was_. The town was her charge, and she honored the memory of her parents when she followed their path and used her resources to bring an end to the reign of terror Ruiz imparted on the people there."

"That path brought me into her life. And if we hadn't met…if she hadn't been with me that day…"

"She would not have died? Do you really believe that, Carlos? Do you really believe that Yessi would still be safe today if you had never come? Eduardo Ruiz and his 'business' had already been responsible for the deaths of several people, and he was luring many of the town's younger men into his wretched lifestyle with promises of money and power. She saw it happening every day. It was killing her to see Ruiz's influence building. And when it became obvious that his control carried over to include the local authorities, she was willing to do anything to stop him. That is when she got the idea to use her father's old contacts with the U.S. Government. At the time, Ruiz was much more of a threat to our town and Venezuela, but Yessi convinced them that his power and resources were growing exponentially, and it would not be long before his criminal trade moved into the United States and became a problem for them as well."

"They only agreed to help after she offered to act as the primary informant. She was my contact when I arrived."

"I remember that. Yessi had a lot of friends in the town. She knew all of the local people that Ruiz had hired to work in his household, and it was one of those house servants who passed on the information that gave you access to Ruiz's schedule and security weaknesses. She was fiercely protective of her informant. She would not even tell me who it was."

"But Yessi didn't die protecting one of the townspeople."

"Yessi died protecting _all_ of the townspeople."

"Yessi died protecting ME!" His loud, gruff voice, filled with self-hatred, echoed off the walls of the small chapel. An eerie silence followed.

I gave Carlos a moment to regain himself after his outburst and then calmly voiced, "she had no choice."

"There's always a choice." He was still angry.

"Not for Yessi there wasn't."

"She could have saved herself. She could have let me die instead."

"That was not an option for her, Carlos. I knew Yessenia Mendez very well. No matter what she faced, she always stayed true to herself. Saving you was as much a part of her deep-rooted obligation as protecting that town. There was no separating the two."

He shook his head slowly and spoke in a tone full of lament. "I should have never let things go that far between us."

"You loved her."

"We'd known each other for less than two weeks!" I could tell he was making a weak attempt to diminish the depth of their connection.

"You loved her," I repeated firmly.

With a heavy sigh and a broken voice, he reluctantly admitted, "I loved her."

"Now, you love Stephanie, and that scares you, doesn't it?"

Carlos shot a look over his shoulder, facing me for the first time. "It terrifies me."

I could see the fear in his eyes. "You loved Yessi, and you believe you failed her, and as a result, she died."

"I loved Yessi, and because she was with me…because I was selfish and needed her with me…she was put in danger. _I_ put her in danger! And she…"

"She died."

"Yes, she died, Father! And I've done the same thing to Stephanie. I have involved her in my business, and now she is in danger. I never should have asked her to work on this case. I took this shot to the shoulder, but it could just as easily have been her." He dropped his head into his hands. "Dios! What was I thinking by bringing her here?"

"Carlos, it's not a crime for a man to love a woman."

"It should be for me, Father. I've tried for so long not to love anyone. I tried so hard to _not_ love Stephanie."

"So for all of these years, you have cut yourself off from the emotions on the off chance that it could put you in that position again. You have made yourself miserable trying to avoid an outcome that may not ever happen. You literally changed who you were, because you decided you were unsafe and unfit to love."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me about your childhood, Carlos. Did your parents love each other?"

"Yes, but I spent a good deal of my childhood living with my grandparents."

"Were they a loving couple as well?"

"My abuelo died when I was sixteen. Abuela loved him very much. She was devastated when he died."

"But did she give up her life when he died? Did she ever tell you that love was not worth the pain she had to face when he left?"

"No. She always spoke of how wonderful their life had been. Though, I knew that already. They were always very affectionate toward each other. It was a good marriage." Carlos looked up and off into a distance, I imagine, only he could see. "I'll never forget the way Abuelo use to look at her…like she was…everything. Even after an argument…it...it never changed the way he looked at her…with so much love." He chuckled slightly and slowly shook his head. "I don't know, but as a teenager I was always embarrassed by it, especially when my friends were around."

"Carlos, you were raised to believe in love, to look for love, to be completed by love. That is _your_ family legacy. And you shut yourself off from that after Yessi." I leaned forward in my pew. "You have a daughter, but I suspect that you have distanced yourself from her, too. Am I right?"

Carlos did not speak, but nodded shamefully.

I patted him on his good shoulder and stood. I stepped out of my pew, approached the altar and gently rubbed my hand along its cold, but comforting, smooth surface. "I keep coming back to this old chapel because it has a certain sense of purity about it. When the very first monks came to the mountain, they built this place by hand and with almost no money. They slept in tents for the first year and cooked their meals over an open flame, because completing this place of worship was their vision, their mission, their passion. Their devotion to their original purpose drove them to build it. Their tenacity and dedication to that purpose are still so evident to me when I am here." I wandered to the back side of the altar and faced Carlos. "We have that beautiful monastery up the hill. Every morning a large and extravagant sanctuary surrounded by stained glass windows and adorned with glorious statues, greets me. But it is here…, here in this small, unassuming vestry, with its modest altar, its simple crucifix, and its dank, musky air, that I come to center myself when I am in need. It is here that I recall my reasons for becoming a priest. This chapel humbles me. It feeds me."

"I wish I could say the same, Father. I only feel torn here; like I'm being pulled between the past and the present."

I moved back to where he was seated and, ignoring the pain, kneeled before him. We were separated only by the wooden rail in front of his pew. "Can you not see, Carlos? Finding Yessi and loving Yessi was what you were supposed to do. Loving someone is never a bad thing. Yes, it was awful and tragic that your love was cut short. But as someone who was so undaunted and dedicated to her own purpose in life, she would never have wanted you to give up on yours. With Yessenia, you discovered and experienced the great capacity you have for love, and you need to let yourself find that again. You have that opportunity with Stephanie." I took his hands in mine and gripped them tightly, begging him to listen. "Carlos, leave Yessi here. Leave her here in peace. Leave the pain behind, and go from this place with a new life. One without the harsh restrictions you have placed on yourself. Do not avoid a life with Stephanie because of what happened, or what _could_ happen. Seek her out in spite of it. She can give you the life you once sought. The one you were raised to believe in. The one you deserve. The life Yessi would want you to have."

Carlos would not look at me, and I was not sure I had gotten through to him. I stood and walked away. Before I exited the door at the rear of the chapel, I turned back. "I have to go into Merida this afternoon. You asked me yesterday if Eduardo Ruiz had a son. I told you I did not know, but I _do_ know some people in town that might be able to give you the information you are looking for, and you are welcome to join me. After you hear from your friend in the states, come find me, and I will change your bandages, Carlos. Then maybe you can get something to eat and get some sleep." I did not wait for a response. I pushed open the door and headed back to the monastery.

**Ranger's POV**

With the closing of the heavy, wooden door, I was once again immersed in silence and my own thoughts. Armando had drawn from me, memories that were long forgotten; memories of my childhood. He was right. I had always been surrounded by loving relationships between men and women. In a strange way, my life and my family's expectations were no different than Stephanie's were in the 'Burg'. Unlike Steph's mother, my own mother has never said much, but each time I walk through her door, she looks past me to see if I have brought someone with me. The disappointment is always clear on her face when she realizes I have arrived alone. My short marriage had not gone unremarked. She had scolded me for my failure and had held my siblings up for measure. They had all managed to find and nurture successful relationships.

Abuela, though, had been different. She had understood me best, and she had never given up on me. The last time I saw her had been four years ago, just shortly before her death. We sat in her kitchen, like we'd done a hundred times before, and she had reminisced, like most old people do, about her life and the lessons she had learned. Before I left, she gave me a kiss on the cheek and slipped a small, velvet bag into my hands. She then told me that of all the things she had ever owned, the contents of that bag were the most valuable, her most treasured, and she wanted me to have it. She ordered me to tuck it into my pocket and protect it, because one day it would be the most valuable thing I owned as well. It wasn't until I had been sitting on the plane, headed back to Trenton, that I pulled the pouch from my pocket and loosened the drawstrings that kept it tightly closed.

As I completed my recollection of those precious moments, the sun rose, and a bold ray of light slowly crept across the stone floor in front of the altar, illuminating the ancient dust suspended in the air of the chapel. As the beam expanded, a fog-like cloud of it rose in front of me like a wall. Morning had come, and with it came an understanding of what I needed to do. Armando's strong words had battled the last of my resistance. It was time to move on, and the key that I needed to put my life in order was in Trenton. I needed to talk to Tank.

I enthusiastically pushed both doors of the chapel open while moving at a less than reverent pace in my rush to get back to the monastery. I was half way up the hill, when I met Brother Ignacio coming down. He was obviously a bit winded from his short jaunt. "Brother Carlos, I have been sent for you. The call you have been awaiting came through. Since Father Armando had told me you were down at the chapel, I told Brother Enrique to inform your friend that you would call him back immediately."

I looked at my watch. The timing was right. Stephanie and Hector's plane should have landed well over an hour ago. If they had not been on it, I would have been notified immediately without regard to the security of the phone line. If all was well, Tank would have waited until he returned to Haywood, and the safety of an untraceable line, to call me. "Thank you, Brother Ignacio. I was just on my way back."

We turned and made our way to the monastery and my connection to the outside world.

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

*****.***.*****

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Ten: Home is Where the Broken Heart Is**

**Stephanie's POV**

Less than a week ago I'd flown first class from Newark to Miami. Ranger had flown separately to perpetuate the myth of lovers flying away to an illicit rendezvous. We'd met in Miami and began our charade of a secret liaison.

We'd boarded a private jet and flown directly to San Cristobal. I'd enjoyed champagne and chocolate covered strawberries. Ranger had a bottle of water and had ignored my questions as to the ownership of our ride.

Now I was exiting the economy class section of a commercial airliner and making my way through the throng at the Newark airport, with pseudo-hubby Juan at my side. Our trip had started at midnight on a puddle jumper that took us to Caracas. After a short delay in Caracas we boarded a Venolanza jet to Miami.

I was nervous as we deplaned at Miami. My passport and new ID read Stefani Diaz, but I still felt like Stephanie Plum. My 'husband' stayed close by my side. I knew a brief moment of terror when the customs agent began searching my purse. Hector leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

"Ranger has your original passport and ID, Chica. It's safely hidden at the monastery."

I'd looked up at him and smiled. Apparently Ranger wasn't the only one with ESP. I liked the close connection Hector and I had. We made it past customs and onto our connecting flight for Newark without incident. Once I was seated I relaxed enough to let my head rest against Hector's shoulder and get some sleep.

It was a good thing I'd managed to get a little nap, as the day was already in full progress in New Jersey, and I had much to accomplish in a short time. I expected someone from RangeMan to be at the airport to pick us up, but I was unprepared for the wall of black in front of me. Tank, Lester and Hal stood side by side watching us approach the luggage carousel. They were all wearing the trademark blank face of RangeMan Security, but I saw Tank's eyes widen, momentarily, as they lingered on me. Suddenly, I realized the colorful outfit that had helped me to escape Venezuela undetected by de Franco's men, now made me look as though I was getting ready to dance the lead in the Ballet Folklorico.

I gave them a little finger wave as Tank approached me. "Stephanie, you're coming with me. Hector can wait for the luggage, and then Lester and Hal will take him to RangeMan. We've planned a debriefing after lunch, and then there will be a meeting with the DEA taskforce later in the afternoon. Are you up for all that?"

I turned to give Hector a hug, and he wrapped his arms tightly around me. He bent his head to drop a quick kiss on my lips.

"Thank you," I said simply. He smiled as we both noticed the flicker in the blank faces of all the men.

"No era nada, mi querida esposa." (_It was nothing, my dear wife._) He turned to walk away with Lester and Hal, and I turned my attention to Tank, answering his question about the day's plans.

"Yes," I said. "Are you taking me to my apartment? I need to shower and change before I do anything else. But I have to talk to Joe, soon. Before the DEA meeting. I assume he'll be there."

"He'll be there," Tank replied. "He'll also be at the debriefing. You can talk to him then."

"No, I need to speak with him, privately," I insisted. "I want to go to my place and shower, and then I'll call him and have him come over."

"I have orders," Tank said. "You're not to be left alone."

"Why?" I questioned, "de Franco is in custody. Ranger told me that much before I left. I'm not in any danger."

"Maybe not, but I won't be leaving you unguarded. Ranger seems convinced de Franco had more than a passing interest in you, and we have strong suspicions Roy Higgins may be playing both sides of the fence. You won't be staying at your apartment. Will you stay with Morelli?"

We'd been walking as we talked and were getting ready to enter the parking garage. "I will be staying at Haywood." I said, offering no other explanation. I didn't know what Ranger had told Tank. I didn't know what I was going to tell Joe. But I knew that by the end of the day there'd be no question of me staying at Morelli's.

As we drove into Trenton, I began to rethink my plan to talk with Joe at my apartment. It was clear Tank was going to be my shadow for the foreseeable future. I reached into my purse for my phone and realized it was missing. Another casualty of our quick departure from the resort in San Cristobal. Most of my cosmetics, my blow dryer, and my flat iron had all been left behind as well. I'd be okay until I could replace my personal items. While it was true my A-team toiletries were gone, I was from Jersey. The B-team set was hidden at the back of my vanity. I was going to miss the red pumps, though.

I turned to Tank. "I need to use your phone. And I'm going to have to do some shopping. Everything I took with me was left behind when Ranger and I left to climb the mountain."

He handed me his phone and I dialed Joe, conscious of the fact Tank was listening.

"Morelli." His voice sounded curt and businesslike.

"Hi, it's me," I said. I waited for the flush of warmth to hit my stomach; the familiarity of his voice to welcome me home. There was nothing. "I need to see you," I continued.

"Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm tired, but otherwise fine. Tank picked me up at the airport and is taking me back to my apartment. I need to see you."

"I have something to finish up, but I can be at your place in an hour."

"Joe, I…" I turned to look at Tank. "I'll have Tank drop me off at your place. He's stuck with babysitting me, but I'm thinking he'll entrust you with the task. We'll have some time together, and then you can bring me to the debriefing." I looked at Tank as he nodded his acceptance of the change in plans. "He doesn't want me to be alone. Even though de Franco is in jail, he thinks I could still be in trouble."

"He's right. The DEA solicited our help with half-assed intelligence, and now we have strong suspicions that one of their agents is playing one side against the other. This thing isn't over yet, even though de Franco is off the streets. Come over. I'll be waiting. I've missed you; we need to talk about that."

"Okay, I'll be there. You're right, we do need to talk." I disconnected and handed the phone back to Tank. He waved it back toward me.

"Call Ella," he said. "She'll have everything you need at RangeMan. That woman lives to shop. Tell her to pick out an apartment on four for you. There are a couple empty right now."

"I guess I didn't make myself clear, Tank," I said. "I'm staying at Haywood, but I'm staying on seven. I don't know how much Ranger has shared with you, but he isn't in a good way right now, and I'm not talking about his shoulder wound. There is some internal struggle going on with him, and I'm not going to make it easier for him by disappearing. I'm going to be in his face until he tells me not to be. Since he isn't here, I will be in his space for now. When he comes back, if he wants me to leave seven, then I will."

"Call Ella." Tank hesitated. I knew there was more he wanted to say, but we were pulling into my apartment parking lot, and he'd apparently decided now was not the time.

I called Ella and gave her a list of the things I thought I couldn't do without. I asked her to place them in Ranger's apartment, and she agreed to do so with no hesitation. Tank re-pocketed his phone as we made our way to my apartment.

It only took a half hour. I'd showered and pulled my hair into its usual ponytail. My closet held exactly what I needed. Courage came in the form of black cargo pants and a black t-shirt. I was going to see Joe with the RangeMan logo over my breast.

Tank was waiting patiently; looking uncomfortable perched on the middle cushion of my sofa. "C'mon big guy, I said. I'm ready to head to Morelli's. I'm about to end this thing with Joe. I told Ranger I was going to."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Tank asked.

"Don't you think that's my business, Tank?"

"I do, but we need Morelli's help to bring in Roy Higgins. Maybe you should wait a few days."

"There's no waiting," I told Tank. "I had plenty of time to think on my way up the mountain and while I was at the monastery. Ranger and I have a connection that needs to be defined. I love him, and I need him in my life, and I'm working hard on making that happen. Joe belongs to my past, and he's the only one who doesn't know it. I have to tell him now." If Tank was uncomfortable with my reply, he didn't show it. I wasn't used to sharing such personal information with him.

We left the apartment and made our way to the SUV in the parking lot. Tank beeped the locks open and made his way to the passenger door to open it for me. I stopped short in surprise, not being used to that type of chivalrous behavior. My surprise grew even greater and escaped my lips as a small squeal, as Tank's big hands wrapped around my waist and lifted me up into the seat. He leaned in and buckled me in place before rounding the vehicle to pull himself up and in behind the steering wheel.

A large black hand reached to turn the key in the ignition, but instead of leaving the parking lot, he let the engine idle as he twisted in his seat to face me. His stare was easily as intimidating as Ranger's. I sat still, waiting for whatever was percolating in his brain to spew out. It was obvious Tank had something to say. Moments passed and I began to fidget. Tank took the hint.

"Stephanie, I trust your instincts. My instincts tell me you shouldn't walk into Morelli's house and break-up with him and expect him to cooperate with us afterwards. If you think the time is right, then do what you think is necessary."

I started to respond, but he held his hand up. "Let me finish," he said taking a deep breath. "You are not one of the core team. You haven't shared the experiences we've had which bond us together as something closer than most flesh and blood brothers." He glanced at The RangeMan logo on my shirt. What was going on here? Was Tank breaking up with me, telling me I wasn't part of RangeMan anymore? My confusion must have shown on my face because he reached out and enveloped both my hands in one huge paw.

"Ranger affords you the same respect he gives every member of the inner circle at RangeMan. You said you'd be staying on seven with such determination I thought you were expecting me to say no. I won't do that. I don't know what's between you and Ranger, but I don't need to. He wouldn't have you involved in this operation if he didn't think you were trustworthy to be part of the team. I do know he is very protective of you, and it was clear in what he said, you are not to be left without protection as long as he is out of the country."

"That's fine," I said. "But I don't see why it's necessary. My job and Ranger's is done. The DEA wanted evidence to put de Franco in jail, and he's off the street. I know they won't let him be bonded out. He has dual citizenship and he's a huge flight risk. He'll be behind bars until after his trial, and then he'll be behind bars until he dies."

"That's true," Tank said, "but there is more to this than we originally knew. Ranger found pictures of you on de Franco's desk. That means de Franco has been watching you for some time. And then there is the other matter. Ranger's idea that de Franco is linked to something that happened when Ranger was in Venezuela years ago. We didn't talk much on the phone, but I know he was staying down there to sort that connection out."

"Wait a minute," I said, the little hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. "What do you mean he is staying to sort that out?"

"I don't know much about it," Tank said. "It was before RangeMan was formed. We were both doing, uh…contract work, for the government at that time and we weren't in daily communication. Ranger was trying to get funds together to pursue an idea he had…an idea that is now RangeMan. All I know is he had a FUBAR mission in Venezuela that almost cost him his life, and something he's learned makes him think de Franco could be connected to that mission."

I sat in quiet introspection as Tank left the parking lot and began the short trip to Morelli's. I thought of our talk during our night on the mountain, and Ranger's attempt to distract me. He'd told me of his mission gone wrong, of how he'd met Father Armando. He'd shown his need for me, although it hadn't been in his plan to do so. Both he and Father Armando had led me to believe he was looking for spiritual comfort at the monastery. I really thought I was going to have a place in his life. And now I'd discovered there was a hidden agenda. I'd no doubt that Ranger was on some mystical, spiritual journey. Father Armando wouldn't lie about that, but I'd known there was something Father Armando wasn't saying.

Ranger had told Tank there was more to the de Franco situation, but he hadn't told me. I'd naively believed Ranger had some big emotional crisis to work out, and I'd left Venezuela with real hope for our future.

Now I was on my way to Joe's to tell him it was over. I could honestly tell him I wasn't breaking up with him because of Ranger, because I knew Ranger didn't trust me completely. He hadn't shared the entire reason for his stay at the monastery. The slow burn of temper had to stay deep inside, because there was no place for temper over Ranger's lack of trust in me when I talked with Joe.

Although Joe lived outside the Burg, he'd been raised inside the borders, and he had the peculiar Burg instinct of knowing when company was coming. He and Bob were standing on the porch when Tank pulled up in front of the house.

"Debriefing at 1400 hours," Tank said, as I slid from my seat. He turned to look at Morelli. "If you need anything, including a ride to RangeMan, call me." I smiled at him as I closed the door and walked toward Morelli and Bob.

Bob was straining at his leash, so I bent down to receive his enthusiastic greeting.

"That's not a good sign," Joe said. "I get second billing to the dog." I stood and wrapped my arms around him for a hug. His lips found mine, and I thought I sensed searching from him rather than passion. I pulled back.

"Let's go inside," I said. "I want to tell you about Venezuela."

"If you're going to confess that you had your face in Ranger's crotch, I already know," he said holding the door open for me.

My mouth flattened into a straight line. I made an attempt to let the tension go before I spoke. "I'm not confessing anything," I said. "I'm going to tell you what happened, now, before we go to the debriefing. My face, as it happens, was in Ranger's crotch. How'd you know?"

"Higgins called. The bastard couldn't wait to rub my face in the news that your mouth had been wrapped around Ranger's dick."

"That's not true," I said. "But how would Higgins have that knowledge?"

"He said he had an informant," Joe said. "The stupid jerk-off was so eager to tell me you'd cheated on me, he didn't realize he was blowing his own cover."

"What cover?"

"He's DEA. If he had an informant he wouldn't have had to use Ranger to infiltrate de Franco's South American operation. If he has an informant, it's because he's playing both sides of the fence, and the idea behind the debriefing is to make sure everyone is on the same page when we meet with the DEA later today. We're going to 'out' this idiot."

"Ranger found pictures in de Franco's office of you and me," Joe continued. "It looked as if they were taken immediately after the last strategy session at RangeMan. The one the day before you and Ranger left. The only person that could have taken those pictures was Higgins."

"Joe," I said, a puzzled note in my voice. "How do you know this?"

"Tank," he replied. "Tank called me to let me know the mission was completed and that Ranger had been shot. He wanted me to know you were okay and on your way home. Tank said Ranger didn't like the idea of de Franco being so interested in you."

Yet another thing Ranger had neglected to mention. He'd told me about the pictures, and he'd told me he suspected Higgins was involved, but he'd neglected to mention his concern that de Franco had an unusual interest in me. I'd been a major player in the operation, and yet, I was possibly, the least informed person in Trenton as to what had really gone on. I gave myself a mental head slap and concentrated on the task before me.

"Okay, Joe." I said. "I'm going to start at the beginning and tell you all about my trip." I did so, telling him almost everything, except of the stolen moments of passion I'd shared with Ranger.

"The thing is, Joe," I continued. "My face was in Ranger's crotch, only in an attempt to save our lives. We didn't want to be gunned down by de Franco and his men."

"So you're saying you didn't cheat on me?" he asked. I ignored his question. I hadn't cheated on him, but it was mostly due to Ranger's restraint. It wouldn't do any good for Joe to know that.

"Joe, this isn't working anymore. For a long time I've had feelings for both you and Ranger, and…"

"And you here to tell me Ranger won," Joe interrupted.

"No!" I stomped my foot, my temper threatening to spill. Joe on the other hand seemed calm, maybe too calm.

"Joe, there is no Ranger and me. It's true I have strong feelings for him. I love him. But there is no commitment between us. I don't know if there ever will be. I just know I can't stay in a relationship with you if I feel that way about him."

"It's the last time, Stephanie." Joe looked at me with sadness dulling his brown eyes. "Make sure you're good with everything you say," he said, "because it's the last time. If you walk away from what we have, it's really over."

My heart skipped a beat. Not because I wasn't sure. I was. But because I'd never seen this utterly calm side of Joe. I stared at him, looking for a sign of the Italian temper getting ready to erupt. It wasn't there. He took my hand and pulled me to the sofa. We sat next to each other and his arm went around my shoulder.

"Before I left for the Navy, I was a punk kid," he said flatly. "I was out to screw every woman I could, and you were at the top of the list. I regret little of what I've done in my life, but I regret treating you as I did. I came home a changed man with plans for my future. I've made a good life for myself, and it's the life I envisioned. When you and I met up again, I knew you were the one. You were the woman I could put my plan into place with. I picked you, but you didn't pick me."

"I picked you, Joe. I never picked your life plan. I may be from the Burg, but my life plan never included me being the Burg version of a housewife. I just can't do it, Joe."

"I can't go on this way either, Steph. If you give up on us, then I will too. I'll find someone else to share my life with, and I won't look back. Is that what you want?"

There were tears running down my face as I nodded my head. His thumb reached out to brush the tears away, and I looked to see him blinking back unshed tears.

"We won't be friends," he said. "I can't do that. I can be polite and cooperative if we meet professionally. I can be cordial if we meet socially, but I can't be friends. We've shared too much to water down our relationship to an occasional meal together or a hug when we bump into each other on the street. Can you live with that?"

Again, I nodded my affirmation and burst into tears. I'd broken his heart. I expected temper and threats, and I'd gotten cold, calm logic. It was much harder to deal with the damage I'd done than I'd expected. His arms went around me in contradiction to what he'd just said. I heard his softly mumbled "Cupcake," as his body trembled with silent sobs against me. I'd broken his heart, and mine was cracking around the edges. I knew I'd done the right thing, and I hoped he'd find happiness.

Joe stood abruptly, and left me sitting on the sofa. I found a box of tissues and blew my nose. I wiped away the inevitable mascara trail. When Joe entered the room a few minutes later, his cop face was firmly in place. He didn't quite meet my eyes as he said, "Let's go. I'll take you to RangeMan before Tank comes calling. We're going to put our heads together and get this asshole Higgins."

**Tank's POV**

The sat phone rang within five minutes of the time I'd originally placed the call. Patience is not my strong suit and I'd been pacing the confines of Ranger's office waiting. I didn't like dealing with a middleman, but I had to, as long as he was at that monastery. The ringing phone was at least proof he gotten the message.

"Yo," I said, as I answered the phone.

"Report," he said simply. It was only one word, but I knew him well. I heard fatigue and could visualize the tense expression on his face."

"They made it fine. No problem at all. Hector had her dressed in some native costume, but she pulled it off. When are you coming back? We're going to try to get to Higgins this afternoon. De Franco is off the streets; your job down there is done."

"Maybe, not," Ranger said. "Something isn't right down here and I might be in a position to do some reconnaissance. I'm starting to wonder if we've been given all the information available regarding de Franco and his organization. I need you to do something important for me, and soon."

"No problem, what do you need?"

"There is a small hand carved wooden box in the wall safe of my apartment. You still know the code?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"Get it. And get it down here quickly. Overnight it, but don't send it to me. Send it in care of Father Armando. He'll see that I get it. I don't want it traceable back to RangeMan. I don't care what route you use to get it here, but I want it soon." His voice was low and it sounded as though each word was an effort to get out."

"Consider it done," I said. "You okay? You don't sound too good?"

"If I don't get some sleep I won't be functional much longer," he told me. "I just needed to hear she got out of the country okay. She is not to be left unguarded."

"You said that yesterday," I reminded him. "She's with Morelli now. He's bringing her over here for the debriefing. She said she's ending it with Morelli. I said her timing might be off, but she didn't appreciate the comment." There was silence and I wondered for a moment if we'd lost the connection, and then he responded.

"I trust her instincts. You should, too. Call me tonight after the DEA meeting. I need to sleep now," and he disconnected. Something was off, but I wasn't sure what. Ranger wasn't acting like a man in control of the op. I pushed that thought to the back of my mind while I started getting things lined out for the rest of the day.

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and comments. Several people reviewing are unregistered readers, or have their PMing function blocked, so we want to use this venue to thank you for reading and reviewing. Your reviews let us know if we are moving in the right direction and we are grateful for your comments.**_

***.***.***

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Eleven: A Bad Connection**

**Joe's POV**

I reached out and held the door open with one hand, waiting for Stephanie to walk through. The other hand itched to press against the small of her back as she passed by, but we weren't doing that anymore. Tank was already in the room, preparing for the debriefing. As long as Ranger was gone, Tank was in charge. I saw him glance at Stephanie, before he shot a quick look at me and then focused back on her. The fucker knew. He knew she'd told me it was over. What was he, her father confessor? I could tell Tank was expecting bad behavior from me. He wouldn't see any.

As Stephanie and I took places side-by-side at the table, the door opened and Lester Santos and the gang-banger, Hector Something-or-Other, came in. Santos came to Steph's side and leaned down close. I didn't hear his whispered comment, but it made her laugh. That was something I hadn't done in a while. The tear-drop tattooed ass-hole bent to hug her and kiss her cheek before he took his place.

I looked around the room. It wasn't the first time I'd been in the RangeMan conference room, but it was the first time I'd noticed how comfortable Stephanie was and how comfortable Ranger's men were around her. She was in deep with these men, and she was right, we were done.

Tank stood and passed out folders to us. "This is a synopsis of what we know. I've had several conversations with Ranger, and I'll tell you his take on the situation, but first I want a report from Stephanie and Hector. Morelli, you're here as the police liaison. Your job is officially done now that de Franco is incarcerated, but we're hoping you can help us hang Roy Higgins. He's been sloppy, and it seems obvious he's playing both sides in this operation. We are going to form a strategy here and, if we're successful, we'll get him to implicate himself at the DEA meeting later this afternoon."

Tank sat down and leaned back in the leather conference chair. "Steph, you go first," he said.

"I'm not sure what you want me to tell," she said. "I think everyone knows why I accompanied Ranger to San Cristobal."

"Just tell us what happened while you were there. We all want to be on the same page. We'll take your version of the events as you saw them unfold. We may pick up something from your telling of the story. Start with the time you and Ranger arrived at the hotel."

I saw the leer in Santos' eyes. He tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a smirk. The bastard was hoping to see me lose it when Steph starting talking about the time she spent with Ranger. My guts were in a knot, but my cop face, as Steph called it, was firmly in place. I looked over at her and saw her glance nervously in my direction. She was as afraid I'd blow, as Santos was hopeful. I wouldn't give the sawed-off little prick the satisfaction. It was my turn to whisper in her ear, but I made sure my voice was loud enough to travel across the table.

"It's okay, Cupcake. We all know you were just doing your job. Tell them just like you told me." I saw gratitude in her eyes, but I didn't acknowledge it. I was concentrating on my portrayal of the understanding boyfriend. I was sure Tank knew, but I doubted Santos or Hector had a clue Steph I weren't together any longer.

"We went to the resort at San Cristobal together. We were playing the part of lovers. Hector had been there for a while, and we met with him the first day we were there. That evening Ranger went to de Franco's office. I stayed in the hotel room waiting for him to return. The plan was to gather our gear and leave as soon as he got the info from de Franco's computer. I didn't have the details, but I knew he and Hector had planned a way for us to get back to Caracas and out of the country safely."

She stopped and thought for a moment before she continued. The knot in my gut was getting tighter, because I knew what I was going to hear, thanks to Roy Higgins, but I wouldn't show weakness in front of Ranger's men. I kept my gaze focused on her, as did the others. She drew a deep breath, and I knew she was trying to hold her emotion in check as the story continued.

"When Ranger came back he was shot. In the left shoulder. He said it wasn't bad, but it was worse than he said. He said he saw something in de Franco's office that worried him. There were pictures of me, and of me and Joe."

She turned to look at me. "Ranger told me there were pictures, but he wasn't specific about what he saw. I knew whatever he found had surprised him though, because otherwise de Franco and his gunman would never have caught him unaware."

I saw something in her eyes. Stephanie was upset and trying hard not to show it. I recognized the look, but much like me, she was trying to keep her temper under wraps. She swung her chair around to Tank. "When did Ranger tell you about the photos?"

"When you were still at the monastery," he said. "He called later in the day, after you called. The conversation was short as he wasn't feeling well. When we talked to arrange your departure, he got into a little more detail. I'll share that information later. Right now, continue with your story."

Her elbows were resting on the table, and she used both hands to push her hair back from her face. There were dark hollows under her eyes and she looked like she needed a good night's sleep, but she continued with a voice that was strong and clear.

"We had to come up with a plan quickly," she said, "because Ranger said he thought de Franco would come to the room. He thought they suspected he was the one who was shot. I had an idea and, well… it worked. Ranger got into bed and so did I. I made it look like we were, uh…" I reached out and took her clenched hand. I gave it a little squeeze, as much to befuddle Santos as to comfort Steph.

"I made it look like we were having sex," she continued. "When the door to the room opened, I got out of the bed to draw their attention from Ranger. I was naked, mostly, and de Franco and his gunman were distracted. Ranger didn't show any sign that he'd been shot."

My eyes met Santos' across the table. So there, you SOB, no fireworks from the bad-tempered Italian cop. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out.

"I need to take this," I said. "Go ahead with the rest of your story, Steph. I'm familiar with what happened next."

I wasn't familiar, but I didn't give a flying fuck about what she was going to say. I stood and answered, "Morelli," as I exited the room.

I came back in the room to hear Stephanie say, "…and then we got on the plane in Miami and came home."

I sat back down in my chair as Tank said, "Hector, your turn."

I interrupted. "If this meeting is to rehash the facts, in order to get Higgins to 'out' himself, then the meeting is over. Higgins was just found in an alley two blocks from PD headquarters. He was in two parts."

All eyes turned toward me, as I said, "He was beheaded, and it was a clean job." I'd seen it in meetings before. Subtle changes in posture, a stilling of hands. I had everyone's attention, and I knew they understood the importance of what I'd said. Everyone but Stephanie.

"Beheaded?" she questioned as if she hadn't heard correctly.

Hector spoke in a surprisingly soft, but well-modulated voice. His English was accented but easily understood. "Beheaded, bonita. It's an indication Señor Higgins lost his life at the hands of the de Franco organization."

"It's the preferred method," Tank said, "when a drug cartel wants someone taken out, especially a Latin American drug cartel. It's a signature, so everyone will know the victim is persona non grata with the cartel leadership. So now the question is why would they want Higgins dead? Was he caught playing both sides of the fence? Double crossing de Franco, while pretending to be double crossing the DEA?"

I chimed in, "Or was he eliminated as a guise to throw us off the real infiltrator. Who's in charge now that de Franco's off the street?"

"Andres Ruiz Montenegro." The answer came from Hector, and everyone turned to look at him. "I spent time in Mérida, and San Cristobal, watching. The morning after Ranger breached de Franco's office there were teams of men that left the compound. They were guerillas, and they were on a hunt. Over the next two days I saw all teams return. In the meantime, de Franco left Venezuela and came back to Trenton, where he was arrested. His nephew, Montenegro, is definitely running things in San Cristobal, and he's running things with such efficiency, one might suspect he'd had advance knowledge his tio was no longer going to hold power." The room was quiet. We were all thinking.

Something was niggling at the edges of my mind, but I couldn't put a finger on it. "If Montenegro's men came back empty-handed, that would mean they probably didn't know of Ranger's connection to the monastery."

Steph looked over at me in surprise. I was up to date on most of RangeMan's Intel largely due to Tank. That, in itself, was something interesting to think about. Tank was educated and experienced and fully capable of running his own organization, but he preferred to be number two to Ranger. I preferred dealing with Tank rather than any other RangeMan employee, including their leader.

If Montenegro was running things, why would he put a hit out on Higgins? It was a question everyone at the table was asking themselves. I needed to leave the meeting. I wasn't primary on the Higgins case, but whoever was assigned the case would want to talk to me. I had information from the DEA that would be pertinent. It was going to be a big pot of alphabet soup, as word of the slaying got out. Trenton PD should have jurisdiction in the murder, but the DEA and CIA would probably be competing to take over the case, and the FBI wouldn't be far behind.

Ranger was, in all likelihood, safe at the monastery. It wasn't any of my concern, one way or the other, but there was something just out of my reach, and I thought it was something important. This was not my problem, and as an officer of the law, I knew RangeMan frequently operated in a gray area. I had absolutely no cause to jump in, but despite my lack of concern for Ranger's safety, I could see the pallor of Steph's complexion. That freaking intuition of hers was telling her something wasn't right. So instead of getting up and leaving, I continued to play the part of the concerned lover.

I wanted to walk away, but I couldn't willingly do something to hurt Steph. She'd hurt me, but I didn't think it was intentional. She wasn't wired that way. I remembered the day she ran me down with her father's Buick. That hurt, and it was definitely intentional, but I'd deserved it. The squeaking of Steph's chair as she turned toward me brought me back to the present.

"Tank, didn't you say Ranger thought de Franco might be connected to a previous mission?" I asked. Stephanie's head snapped up, and her eyes met mine.

"Yeah," Tank said. "I haven't talked to him at any length, but he did mention he'd seen a ring on de Franco's finger that had a connection to a previous mission he'd been on in Venezuela. A mission where something went seriously wrong."

"I saw the ring!" Stephanie said, pushing her chair back as she stood. "When de Franco was leaving the room that night, he lifted my hand to his lips, and I saw the ring he wore. It was ostentatious and ugly. He wore it on his middle finger. It was gold with emeralds and diamonds, and it looked like a crown."

Shit. Fuck. Hell and damn! "Do you have the details of that mission?" I asked Tank.

"No," he replied. "That was when RangeMan existed only as an idea. Ranger was taking certain assignments to raise money to start the business." He looked over at Santos. It was clear he was trying to figure out how much to say. I knew, so I saved him from making a decision.

"Well, when the DEA solicited the help of the Trenton PD with de Franco, I was given files on everyone involved. I remember looking over some of the information, and there was a report on a mission Ranger worked in Venezuela, years ago. The earlier mission was for the DEA, too, and that's probably why the information was included. I didn't pay much attention at the time, but I know Ranger was sent to eliminate the head of a drug cartel."

"The ring you described," I said turning to Steph, "matches the description of a ring Ranger's target was wearing. And the name Ruiz strikes a chord. I think that was the name of Ranger's target."

The looks I was getting now seemed to be those of a grudging respect. I didn't need their respect. As far as I was concerned Santos and the gang-banger could take their respect and shove it up their asses. But I didn't want Stephanie to be caught in the middle of something bad. Never mind she'd torn me apart earlier in the day, I loved her. I couldn't stop because she said it was over. If what I was thinking was true, Ranger was in trouble in Venezuela and while part of me hoped he'd buy it down there, I didn't want Stephanie to suffer. So in spite of my feelings, I decided to do my best to spare her feelings.

"I've got the DEA files locked in a briefcase in my SUV. I'll be right back." I stood and left the room and headed for the stairs. Ten minutes later the relevant files had been copied and the room was once again silent, each of us reading the details of Ranger's previous mission. Some overzealous clerk at the DEA had put information in the file that wasn't pertinent to the current operation. Whether the clerk made the connection between the earlier mission and the current one, or just included the report of Ranger's first DEA job by accident, didn't matter. We had information that proved the connection.

I was the first to finish reading the files, as I was already cognizant of their detail. "It seems Ranger's target all those years ago was Eduardo Ruiz," I said, "the father of Jolie de Franco _Ruiz_, and the grandfather of Andres _Ruiz_ Montenegro. It's all supposition, but if Higgins was working with Montenegro, Ranger may have been hand-picked for this mission. I'm betting Jolie de Franco has no idea who killed his father, and I'm also betting Montenegro knows exactly who was responsible for the death of Eduardo Ruiz. If de Franco had knowledge of Ranger's part in his father's death, he'd have gone after Ranger long before now. And if Montenegro knows, it stands to reason he learned Ranger's identity from Higgins.

Santos had been quiet for most of the meeting. His usual laid-back sardonic personality wasn't on display. His expression was dead serious. He looked my way and said, "You're right. It is supposition, but it would explain why Higgins was taken out. He'd have had something to hold over Montenegro. If the pictures of you and Steph were on de Franco's desk because he had an interest in Steph, then he wouldn't have been happy to know Steph was at his resort with Ranger. Maybe Montenegro was hoping his uncle would take Ranger out in order to get to Steph, and planned or not, that damned near happened. When it didn't work, Montenegro let his uncle walk into the DEA trap in Trenton, and sent teams to find and take out Ranger. As long as the monastery connection is hidden, Ranger is, presumably, safe."

"We have to warn him," Stephanie stood and looked at Tank. "You've got to get in touch with him now!"

I, once again, got out of my chair and walked to the door of the conference room. I couldn't help it. My eyes took Steph in from head to toe. "I'm going to leave you all to it," I said. "You're right, Tank, my work here is done, and I want to get to the crime scene. I don't want any of those DC bastards stealing a case that should be Trenton, PD." Lester Santos stood and walked around the table toward me. He held out his hand.

"Thanks, Morelli, for helping us put together the pieces." Where's your swagger now, you cocky bastard. My hand went out to shake his, and I felt a jolt of satisfaction. I was the professional in this room full of law-bending mercenaries, and I'd acquitted myself well.

I turned toward Stephanie. "I'll be seeing you, Cupcake." I left the building and headed off to inspect both parts of Roy Higgins.

**Stephanie's POV**

We left the conference room shortly after Joe, with a plan to meet back in thirty minutes. I wanted to call Ranger, but I didn't know how. Tank was the obvious choice, and he walked toward Ranger's office, presumably to contact him at the monastery. I stood for a moment with Lester and Hector. We were all deep in our own thoughts. I was worried about Ranger, but there was more bouncing around my head than worry. There was a slowly building irritation. If I let it grow a little longer, it might reach a full-on mad. Ranger had been Ranger.

Even though we'd had conversation on our way up the mountain, he'd still had his secrets. He was still the man of mystery, and I was starting to wonder if I'd imagined his declaration of love for me. In a moment of less than perfect control, he'd confessed his love for me. So why, I wondered, couldn't he have told me of his suspicions. I knew the trip to the monastery was a hastily concocted plan B, but I'd thought it was because of his wound. Now I thought differently.

I left Hector and Lester and walked to the elevator. I was going to go to seven for a few minutes before we reconvened in the conference room. I felt the need to be close to Ranger, and seven was as close as I was going to get. I fobbed the door open and made my way directly to the bedroom, where I collapsed into my thinking position on his bed. I set my phone alarm, just in case. I was exhausted.

It was a physical thing. I could feel the closeness Ranger and I'd had up on the mountain seeping away. There was more than geographical distance between us. He was on another continent, but there was another kind of distance as well. I couldn't feel him, and I wondered why. He'd been open, emotionally, on the hike up the mountain. I felt a burst of heat slide through me as I remembered his declaration that there'd been no other woman since me. I thought we'd taken a huge step forward, and now I knew there'd been a whole other agenda. Ranger hadn't told me about the de Franco-Ruiz connection, but he'd told Tank at the first opportunity.

As my mind replayed conversations I'd had with Father Armando, I realized he'd known about Ranger's other reasons for being there. He'd known there was a connection to his previous mission, even if he didn't know exactly what that connection was. I was betting a large part of the reason Ranger stayed at the monastery was to figure out the connection. Ironically, Joe figured it out in Trenton, and now Tank was telling Ranger.

Ranger had always been proud of my work as a BEA. And he was generous in his praise. He didn't keep information about cases from me. He welcomed my input. So why, now that I knew I was important to him, had he withheld his true agenda? My phone alarm went off before I reached any conclusion. I pulled myself up from the bed to head back to five. I was curious to see what Tank had learned from him.

I opened the door and stepped into the foyer and ran smack into Tank. He was a startled as I was.

"I'm just on my way down," I said. "I'm not late am I? Did you talk to Ranger?"

Tank seemed distracted. "Uh, no you're not late. I'll be right down, you go ahead."

"Did you talk to Ranger?" I asked again.

"He's okay," Tank said. "When I spoke with him earlier, he asked me to get something out of the wall-safe. I'll be right down, and we'll continue with the meeting."

"You spoke with him earlier?"

"I called him," Tank said, "right after I left you at Morelli's. I told him what you were planning to do. I thought he might have some input, and he did. He told me to let you follow your instincts. We're due back downstairs, so I need to get to the safe."

My eyebrows raised in surprise. Ranger had a wall safe. What else was I going to learn about Ranger, today? I could tell Tank had more news, but he wouldn't spill it until the meeting reconvened. I hurried back down to five.

A few minutes later Tank walked in and closed the door behind him. Hector had taken the chair Joe had occupied, and he leaned in close to me. "You look tired, Chica. After this meeting you need to rest."

"I bet I'm not as tired as you," I said to him. "I slept on the plane. When was the last time you slept?"

"I'm used to it," he responded shrugging his shoulders as if to say 'no problem'.

Hector, Lester, and I looked toward Tank waiting for his report, but instead of telling us news of Ranger, he started by asking me a question.

"How much does Ranger's injury disable him?"

"I'm not sure," I answered, wondering why Tank was asking. "He wasn't in good shape when we got to the monastery. The wound was infected, and Father Armando treated him with shots of antibiotic. He will heal slowly, because the wound couldn't be stitched. I think the medicine was well on its way to knocking out the infection, though."

Again Tank directed a question toward me. "Is he functioning at a hundred percent? Fifty percent? What's your estimate?"

"I, ah, I'm not sure. Maybe, eighty to ninety percent. Getting up the mountain undetected, and without proper equipment or food, took a lot out of him."

Tank's massive fist hit the conference table with a thump. His mouth was a taut line, and I could see his brow wrinkled with frustration. "I called the monastery, Nuestra Señora de los Andes, and I asked to speak to the head guy, Armando. He wasn't available. He'd left the monastery and won't be back 'til later in the day, and apparently Ranger went with him. I have no idea who I was talking to, but he said his name was Dom. I explained to the guy that Ranger and the rest of them might be in danger, and he promised to have this Armando dude, or Ranger, call me back as soon as they arrive back at the monastery…but he said there'd been no sign of anything unusual, and Ranger was feeling better."

"It's_ Father_ Armando," I said. "He is the Abbott, and he is an old friend of Ranger's. He saved Ranger's life when his first mission went wrong. And the guy you were talking to said he was a monk, also known as dom."

"Well," Tank sighed, "I don't see any other option. We're going to have to go bring Ranger out. If he's figured out the connection, he'll understand he needs to leave, to keep the monks, I mean doms, and himself safe. And since he's not a hundred percent, he'll need help."

Tank swiveled his chair toward Lester, "Santos, you stay here. You're the best suited to run this place in my absence."

Then he turned his gaze to Hector, "You'll need to leave soon, to start setting things in place. Are you up for that?"

"Si," Hector said. "Just as soon as we've finalized plans, I'll leave to start making arrangements."

"What about me?" I asked. I had a funny feeling I wasn't in Tank's plan, but I'd be changing that right away.

"You'll have to stay here, Stephanie." Tank was using his 'I'm in charge' voice, but it didn't scare me. "You'll have to stay here at RangeMan," he continued. "It's not safe for you to be on your own until we can figure out who is behind Higgins' execution."

"You're right," I said. "It's not safe for me here, and that's why I'm coming with you."

"We don't have time to fight about this," Tank said.

"You're right, again. You need me with you. Hector hasn't been to the monastery. I have. I've met Father Armando and the monks, and I have knowledge of their daily life. I can get us up the mountain and into the monastery safely."

"You're saying you could retrace the climb you took with Ranger?" Tank asked.

"Heck no," I said. The thought of wandering around on the mountainside without Ranger as a guide was frightening. "But I know how to hide in a delivery van that will make its way from Mérida. If we contact Father Armando, he will be waiting for us and make sure we all get inside the monastery safely. Ranger said the monastery was off limits for de Franco and his men, but that may not be the case if Montenegro is in charge. We have to get to Ranger quickly."

Tank sat silent for a moment. He stood so abruptly his chair careened backwards. He turned to me and in a quietly authoritative voice said, "Go upstairs and go to sleep. I'll call when we have the specifics in place. If you're going, you will take orders from me. I won't have you jeopardizing the plan, or getting yourself killed. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly," I said. "Your word is my command."

I turned and swung my ass out of the conference room, my chin held high and my hair bouncing wildly around my shoulders. It wasn't until the door closed behind me on seven that I allowed the tears to fall.

**TBC...**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Beginning today, we will change our posting schedule to Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The requests for faster updates has been overwhelming and we aim to please.**

*****.***.*****

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Twelve: Ecclesiastic Espionage**

**Ranger's POV**

I'd forgotten how limiting the monk's postulant robe could be when you moved away from the seclusion and simple life of the monastery and into the faster paced life of the city. Simply getting into and out of a car required a new set of skilled movements so as not to get tangled up in the fabric. I had a much better appreciation for Stephanie and the grace she exhibited in her distraction outfits. I didn't want to even think about what would be required for me to mount a bar stool in this thing, let alone chase down and subdue a skip. Armando had it easier. He had changed into a more modern black suit and priest's collar. I would be acting as his novice assistant and needed to remain in the hooded robe in order to limit my exposure to the population of Mérida and possibly de Franco's men.

We were hoping to meet with a man whom Armando thought would have answers to my questions about Eduardo Ruiz. We had entered the busy town during the middle of the afternoon and Armando was carefully negotiating the small car through the city streets and around its pedestrians, while making his way to Iglesia del Carmen, the oldest Catholic Church in the city.

"The man we are looking for, Carlos, is Juan Salas. He works at the church as a maintenance man of sorts. The building is quite old and needs repairs on a daily basis. Juan can fix just about anything. He is from my hometown of Tabay and was a great friend of my father's. When I was a teenager, I often worked for Juan during my breaks from school. I once assisted him in fixing the local clinic's portable x-ray machine, and the very next day we were at a dairy farm five miles outside of town working on señor Torres' electric milking machine." Armando chuckled lightly. "The man believes the machines talk to him."

"Why would he have information on Ruiz?"

"Juan worked for Ruiz on a number of occasions for many years. Ruiz first moved into Tabay several years prior to your arrival, and, for a period of time, Juan worked exclusively for him at his large hacienda. He may have the personal information you are looking for."

We parked the car near a back entrance to the church and entered through a service door. Once inside, Armando led me through a series of long, dimly lit hallways and stairwells. We descended two floors below the main level and finally ended up in a cavernous workroom. The smell of motor oil and turpentine permeated the air. The walls were lined with ancient tools crowded onto peg boards and sitting on shelves. In the far corner, rusty paint cans were stacked four and five high. An old wooden table loaded down with corroded plumbing fittings, outdated electrical parts, and door hinges and locks, stood swaybacked under the weight in the middle of the room. Above it, suspended by a length of lightweight chain, a short, fluorescent light fixture hummed; the only noise breaking the eerie silence.

"Juan?" Armando called out.

A heavy shuffling noise came from a doorway near the back of the room, and a short, stocky man with broad shoulders and a full, salt-and-pepper beard made his way into the light, pushing a rolling bucket and mop. When he focused on Armando's face, recognition struck him, and he broke out into a wide grin, revealing evidence that no dental plan was available to him in this job.

"Father, how good it is to see you once again." The man's Spanish greeting was slurred. Either he was drunk, or his teeth were so loose he couldn't form the words completely.

Armando didn't hesitate to approach the man and grasp him by the shoulders in a friendly hug. "Juan, it is good to see you, as well. The building looks wonderful. You do good work here. Father Velasco tells me they could not get along without you."

"It is a good job, Father. I have it because of you."

"Nonsense! It was purely selfish on my part. This timeworn place is very special to me, and I knew you were the only one to give it the care it needed."

I stood and watched as the older man looked upon Armando as if he could walk on water. I knew the feeling. There weren't many men I'd come across in my life, outside of my closest friends at RangeMan, that I held great respect for. Armando was on the short list.

"Father, what brings you way down here? As you can see, there is no confessional or altar; only broken parts and pieces of this old cathedral waiting to be repaired." Juan moved over to the table and made his hands busy by picking up a tarnished lock assembly and nimbly removing four small screws. He then replaced the core with one he had sitting to the side. The dexterity required to complete the task in the dismal light was impressive. He obviously wasn't drunk.

"Juan, this is my good friend Carlos Manoso. Do you remember him?"

I removed the hood from my head and let it fall against my back. The man set down his work and turned to face me for inspection. "I remember the name. I heard it whispered among the townspeople enough." He squinted and peered deeply into my eyes as if he were looking for the familiarity to surface. "The face has changed a bit. It is harder, sadder. But then it would be, would it not."

I had no memory of this man, but he seemed to have one of me. I must have given him a quizzical look, because he continued. "I was in Tabay when you were there… When you rid our town of Eduardo Ruiz…when…Yessenia Mendez…" His voice faltered, and he turned back to his task at the table.

"That is what I need to talk to you about, Juan." Armando stepped up and put a comforting hand on his now sagging shoulder. "Carlos and I need to ask you some questions about Eduardo Ruiz. You spent a lot of time in his house. I know it was many years ago, but I think you can help us."

"What questions do you need to ask? The man is dead, thank the heavens."

I stepped closer to the table. Juan kept his back to me. "Do you remember if Ruiz had any children? When I was in Tabay, they were never mentioned or seen. I was given no information on them by my superiors."

"He had a much older daughter and a son. They were never in Tabay that I was aware of. Ruiz used Tabay for his work, and he kept his family away. I do not know where. He did not speak of his wife and children often, and, when he did, his voice held little affection for them." He put the finished lock down and turned to face us. "It was strange to me. In Tabay, we cherished our children; loved them; kept them close. I always thought he considered his children more as possessions."

"Do you remember their names?"

"The daughter? I never heard a name. The son? Once, early in my employment as his handyman, I was summoned to him. He asked me if I could build a small keepsake box he could send to his son for some important occasion. Finishing school, I believe. When I told him I could, he asked me to engrave the boy's name in the top."

"What was the name?" I asked.

"Jolie."

Armando and I made eye contact, mutually confirming my suspicions.

"Thank you, Juan. You have been very helpful." Armando patted his shoulder.

Juan took in our expressions. "Did the apple not fall far from the tree?" He asked, correctly interpreting that we may be having issues with Junior.

"You could say that." I replied.

"Bad apples." He flatly stated.

I grunted. "Rotten to the core."

We said our thanks and goodbyes to Juan and made our way back to the car. We drove for a while, and I lost myself in my thoughts and the pain that was starting up again in my left shoulder, until Armando's voice pulled me back to the present.

"Carlos, there is one more stop I think we should make, but it will require a more public appearance. Perhaps you should stay in the car for this one."

"Where are we going?"

"Life in Mérida is not easy. In fact, life is very tough at times. Water shortages occur regularly because of landslides blocking the pipes. Food and the cost of living are expensive, and wages are very low. There is an area of this town that holds more than its share of taverns and desperate citizens. One street alone, Calla Sambara, has at least eight pubs in less than a quarter of a kilometer. It's a very rough area, but convenient for those who wish to lose their worries through drink or drug, or who wish to seek alternative income opportunities."

"Stark Street." I mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing." I answered. "I understand what you mean. It's no different in Trenton."

"Well, if de Franco has men about, they will have come here looking for eager labor and cheap information. It is late enough in the day now, and we should be able to, perhaps, purchase some information of our own."

This brought a grin to my face. "Father, I'm shocked. Are you suggesting that we cohort with, and support, the criminal element of Mérida? What would God say?"

"How I reconcile my behavior of late with God, is my concern. Your concern is to do what you do best and stay alive while doing it. If I can help you, then so be it. I have an understanding with God about life in Venezuela. My ways are not always conventional…or acceptable to the ways of the Catholic Church." He pulled into a parking spot on the street, turned off the engine, and turned to look at me. "But with God, I am good."

The look he gave me, spoke volumes. I asked no more questions. I simply nodded, as I had done countless times with Tank, to confirm the unspoken understanding between two soldiers that what needed to be done was for the betterment of the greater good. I didn't pretend to understand what brought Armando to the priesthood. When I had spent those months recovering at the monastery seven years ago, Armando and I had often spoken of our experiences in battle. I knew he had witnessed, and participated in, a shitload of fucked up things. Things that would drive most people _from_ God, not _to_ Him. But every soldier must find his own way to cope; to make the act of living count for something beyond just struggling with the past. For Armando, it had been to devote the rest of his life to God. For me, total dedication to the success of RangeMan had worked best, and I had thought that as long as I _'caught the bad guy'_ I was good. But I had also isolated myself in the process. Shutting out emotions had meant not having to deal with them. Time spent with Stephanie had since shown me that it had been the coward's way out. Armando had not sacrificed his humanity to carry on. Perhaps he was the real hero here.

Armando nodded toward the front windshield, pointing out our next destination. It was a bar called Bolero's. In an act that I had performed a thousand times, I slipped the gun from where I had stored it under my seat and went to tuck in into my waistband. I stopped short when I had only the rope of my robe in my hand and not my standard belted cargo pants. "Shit."

Armando chuckled. "The deep pockets of your postulant's robe will have to do, my friend. But remember in there, that I have you covered only spiritually. I no longer carry a weapon other than my faith."

I slid the gun into my pocket and exited the car. We got a few odd looks as we entered the bar, but once we slipped into a darkened booth and melted into the shadows, the attention dissipated. Within a few minutes a gruff, overweight man approached our table.

"What will it be, Padre?"

Armando didn't hesitate. "Red wine, please, for both of us."

I kept my hooded head down until the man left the table. "Water would have been better."

"You do not want to drink the water in these places, Carlos. Stick with wine. It is an acceptable drink for the monks of Nuestra Señora de los Andes, and, if I am not mistaken, you have probably hit the end of the relief from your last dose of pain medication. The wine will help until we can get back to the monastery."

The glasses were set down on the table, and the waiter started to retreat. Armando stopped him with a hand to the man's arm.

"Could you tell me if Reina is here, my friend?"

The man nodded. "She's in the back."

"Would you let her know Father Armando is here, please?"

The man nodded curtly, walked off toward the bar, and disappeared. I looked at Armando, wondering how the hell he had a connection in a place like this. "Another former acquaintance from Tabay?" I questioned.

"Hardly," was his amused reply. "Reina is a born and bred Méridan. She knows this town and has an ear to everything that goes on."

"You certainly have some interesting friends for a reclusive monk."

"Reina supplies our monastery with all of our wine. She gives us a good price, because we barter with her for some of our coffee, and she is partial to the produce that Dom Berto grows in the garden you made him."

We heard Reina before we saw her. Her approach to our booth was preceded by a string of sharp reprimands for an obviously lazy server. The harsh, powerful tenor in her voice, however, did not match the smile and pleasure her face reflected upon seeing Armando.

"Father Abbot, what a treat to see you here in my place." Her mostly gray hair was pulled into a loose bun at the base of her neck, and the deep lines on her dark face tightened under her broad smile. It was obvious that the woman had led a hard life, smoked heavily, and had to be pushing seventy, but like a school girl with a crush, she was almost star struck in Armando's company.

"It has been a while since I have been here, Reina." He took her hand, and she actually giggled.

"How is the wine, Father? Reuben is new here. Did he give you the good stuff?"

"It is wonderful, thank you. Reina, this is Brother Rico." He lifted his hand in my direction, and Reina reluctantly forced herself to break her fixed gaze on Armando to acknowledge my presence out of courtesy.

I shook my head at Armando. _Rico?_ I hated that nickname. As children, my brother had used it to taunt me. I dropped the hood from my head and extended my hand in greeting. She quickly shot a brief look back to Armando and then returned her attention to me, abandoning Armando's hand in a flash and accepting mine with an even broader smile. "You are new. I would not have forgotten a face like that if I had seen it at the monastery before."

"Brother Rico has just recently joined us at the monastery, Reina."

"Well, I look forward to seeing you on my next visit there. Did Father tell you I supply the wine for the monastery?" She clasped her left hand over our joined grip and caressed it warmly. She was openly flirting with a man with whom she had just been introduced to as a man of the cloth.

I nodded, removed my hand from her grip, and watched her slowly pull back into her own space.

Armando was doing a poor job at hiding his entertainment in the situation, but finally spoke up. "Reina, could you join us for a few minutes?"

Reina's eyes lit like diamonds as she jumped at the chance to slide into the booth space next to me without any regard for personal space. Images of Stephanie's Grandma Mazur flashed before my eyes and, monk's robe or not, I felt a strong instinct to protect the family jewels from an unauthorized grab.

"What do you need?" She sounded focused and held her attention on Armando, but her hands were starting to stray, so I slid a few inches to my left.

"We need to know if you are aware of any _talk_ about a man named Manoso. We believe that Jolie de Franco may have an interest in finding him."

Reina didn't slide any closer to my new position, but she casually leaned toward me and laid a hand on my thigh as she responded to Armando's inquiry. "I may have heard something." She coyly teased.

Armando grinned. "The information is very important to me, Reina. The next time you make a delivery to the monastery, I was hoping you would be willing to taste one of our newest coffee blends for us. I think Dom Ignacio would be happy to give you a large sample to bring back here…for testing purposes, of course."

"Of course." She nodded in agreement. "But how is Dom Berto's cilantro crop this year?"

"Healthy beyond measure. In fact, it is doing so well, he does not know what he will do with it all. You would be doing him a favor by taking some of it off his hands for him."

Reina removed her hand from my thigh and put both hands on the table. She leaned across the table toward Armando and lowered her voice. "I have heard talk of Manoso, but it is not de Franco putting up the money. It is Andres Montenegro, de Franco's nephew. It seems de Franco has lost control of the family ring."

"What do you mean?" Armando asked.

"The ring! It is worn by the head of the Ruiz family. de Franco's sister Magda has been after it for years. As the eldest, she always thought it should belong to her. It looks like she got her wish…through the efforts of her son." Reina picked up my glass of unfinished wine, drank it, and snapped her fingers for Reuben. He quickly came to the table and refilled it. I didn't miss that he took the opportunity to study my face. I should have left the hood up. "Andres is a dirty player. Mean as a snake and just as dangerous. He wants this _Manoso_ badly."

"What is the reward for killing him?" Armando asked.

"It is not a kill he wants."

"Are you sure?" I finally spoke up.

"Very." Reina replied seriously.

"What is the contract for, then?"

"Information and location. The word is that Montenegro wants this one for himself. There is no payout if Manoso dies before he gets to him."

Armando nodded his understanding. "Thank you, Reina. You may have just saved a life."

"I will leave the saving of lives and souls to you, Father." She lifted my glass once again and drank it all in one breath. "I will spend my days teaching people how to enjoy living life while they can."

Armando stood, and I made a move to follow, but Reina put a hand on my arm. This time it was not in flirtation, but in warning.

"Señor Manoso, you need to put your hood back on, and you must be very careful not to be seen. The reward is very attractive. Everyone is looking for you…and the woman."

My chest tightened at the mention of Stephanie being included in the manhunt, but I buried my fear. She was safe back in Trenton. Tank would see to it that she remained securely out of harm's way. I focused instead on the first part of her statement and raised a single eyebrow in surprise that she guessed my identity.

Reina sported a half grin, let out a slight chuckle and patted my right leg. "You are either very glad to see me, or that is a gun in your pocket." She turned to Armando. "If he is a monk, then I am Rita Moreno." She looked at me and sighed heavily. "It is too bad, really. He would have made my trips to the monastery much more exciting." Before she slid from the booth to let me out, she added, "If you are still alive on Saturday night, cariño, come back here, and I will treat you to a glass or two of my private stock…upstairs. We will not be disturbed."

I gave her a half smile at the invitation. "I'll check my schedule. Thank you for the information, Reina. It was a pleasure meeting you." I understood the value of contacts, and I didn't want to alienate such an important one for Armando, so I lifted her hand and kissed it. God bless her, she blushed.

**Armando's POV**

By the time we had returned to the monastery, the small amount of wine Carlos had sipped could not help stave off the pain from his shoulder. I led him straight to the infirmary, changed his bandages, and gave him an injection in addition to the pain pills. Within minutes, he was out for some much needed sleep. Just as he dozed off, Dom Felipe entered the room.

"Father, forgive me. I was just informed of your return. I have an important message for Brother Carlos." He looked at the sleeping man. "His friend Tank phoned again. He sounded most distressed that he could not talk to him immediately, but I assured the man that I would give him the message as soon as he returned. He said he could speak to you as well."

"I have just given Brother Carlos medication. He will likely sleep straight through the night. I will give him the message when he wakes, Brother Felipe. Thank you." I stood and headed toward the door. "Come, Brother. It is nearly time for vespers, and I most definitely feel the need to speak to my confessor."

**TBC...**


	13. Chapter 13

***.***.***

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Thirteen: Enquiring Minds Want to Know**

**Stephanie's POV**

We were on the Gulfstream again. This time my co-passenger was Tank. Hector, who apparently had the endurance of the Energizer Bunny, was already in Venezuela. I spent an uneventful night in Ranger's bed on seven, and now, less than twenty-four hours after I'd arrived in Trenton, I was headed back to Venezuela. The only time I'd flown commercially, it was under an assumed name, so I guess I'd have to give up the idea of collecting frequent flyer points.

I was on edge and would remain that way until I saw Ranger. I might just remain that way after I saw him, because the trust issue was foremost on my mind. He didn't trust me with the details. He was talkative on the way up the mountain, almost chatty compared to a normal Ranger conversation. I wondered if he had been trying to distract me so he wouldn't have to tell me his suspicions of de Franco and his earlier mission.

Armando saved Ranger's life on his previous mission to Venezuela. I knew that, but there was much more to the mission than I had been told. Father Armando had hinted of a spiritual crisis. If Ranger and I were to have a real chance, I was going to have to know the rest of the story.

"You should take a nap," Tank said, interrupting my thoughts. "We are two hours from El Vigia, and it may be a long day."

"I don't need a nap." My reply was quick and sounded, even to my ears, a little abrupt. "What I need is information. Where did you get this plane? And why are we going to El Vigia? The monastery is near Merida. And why isn't Hector with us? Is he in El Vigia? What did Ranger say when you told him he might not be safe at the monastery? Is his shoulder better? Does he know I'm coming with you?"

Tank looked at me with a dazed expression. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Before he could speak, there was an odd buzzing sound, and he pulled a phone out of his pocket. It had a short, stubby, non-retractable antenna.

A satellite phone.

My heart rate picked up a little. When Tank held the phone to his ear and answered with a single "Yo," my heart rated picked up a lot. There was no use pretending I wasn't listening, so I leaned close to try and catch every word. Tank saw, or felt me sliding closer and moved away. I could hear a man's voice and I knew from the timbre, and from the tingle running up and down my spine, it was Ranger. Try as I might, I couldn't make out his words. The conversation was mainly one-sided with Tank doing most of the listening. At one point Tank turned slightly toward me and then back away as if that would keep me from hearing.

"Too late," he said. "She's sitting next to me right now." Then there was a long period of silence that told me as much as the actual words could. Ranger hadn't wanted me back in Venezuela. I moved away from Tank and stared at the empty leather seat across from me. I wouldn't be deterred. I told Ranger I'd fight for us, and I was in the middle of the first skirmish. He was going to see me soon, and I was going to cut him no slack. His life was in danger, and we were going to help him out of the country, and maybe put our lives in danger as well. Our first priority was to get back out of the country safely, and after that it was a full out war. I was going to break down his defenses if it was the last thing I did.

Tank disconnected the phone and turned to me. "I can answer one of your questions now. He knows you're coming with me."

"I figured that out," I said. "I also figure he's not happy about it, but he shouldn't blame you. When I left him with Father Armando I told him I'd be back."

"Do you remember me telling you that I was in charge, and if you came you'd have to follow instructions?" Tank asked. I nodded. "Here is the first instance to apply your promise. I will tell you what I can, but during this mission, as in any mission, information is given on a 'need to know' basis, and there is a lot you don't need to know. Not enough Intel can put you in danger, but too much can do the same thing. That was the first time I'd spoken to Ranger since I called him to let him know you were back in Trenton safely, so I'm going to ask you to rethink your estimation of Ranger's condition. Will he be able to keep up with us when we make our exit from the monastery?"

I snorted. "He was climbing a mountain with an infected and bleeding gunshot wound, and I had to work to keep up with him. He'll be able to make it."

"I spoke with Armando several times during the night. He's been helpful," Tank said. "He said Ranger was heavily medicated, and he wouldn't be able to talk to me until morning, and true to his word, Armando did bring Ranger up to speed, and he called. I don't understand why Ranger had to be heavily sedated if he is doing well."

"Father Armando is a trained medic," I told Tank. "He used to be a soldier in the Venezuelan army and he was there the night things turned bad on Ranger's first mission. I know he saved Ranger's life, and Ranger trusts him completely. I don't know what happened that night other than Ranger was badly wounded, and Father Armando took him to the monastery and saved his life."

I felt a little as if I was preaching to the choir, because Tank was working with Ranger at that time. He probably knew how long Ranger was out of country back then, even if he didn't know the details. "I think," I hesitated because I wasn't sure how to put what I was feeling into words. "I think Father Armando takes care of Ranger in other ways, too. I think they talk."

"What do you mean,_ talk_?" Tank asked. "You mean, Armando is his confessor?"

I gulped, uneasy with the thought of Ranger confessing anything to anyone. "No, I mean I think Ranger listens to Father Armando. I think Ranger trusts him and listens to him."

"I listened to him," Tank said. "He and Ranger have a good idea of what's going on. While we were putting the story together with Morelli, Armando and Ranger were figuring out the same thing. And just now, when I talked to Ranger, it's apparent they have a plan in the works."

That didn't surprise me. Ranger was always in charge. His plan hadn't included me. I could tell that from Tank's side of their conversation. A steely determination stiffened my spine. Ranger would just have to implement Plan B, because I was going to be an ever present thorn in his side.

"We're landing at El Vigia," Tank said, "because it's close to Merida, but far enough way we should be able to slip in undetected by Montenegro. "When Armando called me in the middle of the night, he told me to make El Vigia our point of entry. There will be transportation available to us, and we are to go to Merida and make our way to the monastery from there. Ranger has been in contact with Hector, and a plan is in place to get us armed and up to the monastery by midday."

"Armed?" I questioned.

"Hector's function in arriving early was to procure arms. It's next to impossible to bring firearms into a country, even when you have connections like Ranger's." Tank's quick look around the interior of the plane answered another question. We were using the plane compliments of one of Ranger's 'connections'. More specific information was obviously not on my 'need to know' list. I fell silent for a time, thinking about what was to come.

"How will Hector get us guns?" I asked.

"It isn't hard with the right amount of money," Tank replied. "He was here long enough before, to make some preliminary connections. The real problem is getting guns and not alerting the people who are looking for Ranger. Hector is good at blending in. He is a talented guy."

That was true. Hector was talented, as were all of the merry men. I settled back in my seat and tried to be patient, but more questions bubbled up. "So, Ranger is aware Montenegro may be looking for him?"

"Ranger is aware," Tank said, "that there is a specific threat. Armando has Intel that Montenegro strongly suspects Ranger is at the monastery. Ranger was seen and identified when he was in Merida gathering information with Armando. There is a bounty on his head, but he must be captured alive. That's why Ranger is unhappy that you are on this flight. If there was any way to get you back to Trenton, you'd be going, but this plane will stay in El Vigia to get us out of here quickly."

I absorbed this new information and wondered how Ranger and Father Armando had acquired it. The monastery wasn't nearly as isolated from the world as I'd originally thought.

"Ranger must be feeling better," I said. "It seems like he's making quite a few plans. Maybe we should have all stayed home and let him fend for himself." It was a childish thing to say, and I knew it. I was hurt by Tank's news that Ranger didn't want me there.

"I don't know if he's feeling better or not, and in the end it really doesn't matter. We go after our own. Ranger is down here without adequate epuipment, wounded, and we don't know how accurate his Intel is, but we know ours is accurate. We are here to make sure he comes home safe. You signed on for this, against my will and against Ranger's, apparently, but you gave me your word. If you plan on anything less than full cooperation I'll chain you to the seat in this plane."

"Ranger would fire you for that," I said.

"Not likely."

"You'll have my full cooperation," I said. "I'm just irritated, and venting. I thought Ranger knew exactly where things stood when I left the monastery, and now it seems I'm going to have to remind him."

Tank continued, "Armando said…"

"He is Father Armando," I interrupted. "He is a priest, and you should call him Father."

"Ranger calls him Armando," Tank said, and that's what I'll call him, too."

"Ranger is his friend, and he's known him since before he was a priest, but sometimes Ranger still calls him Father. You should call him Father. Just because Ranger sometimes refers to him as Armando, doesn't mean you should. If Ranger jumped off a bridge, would you just follow and jump off, too?"

"I have. Several times," Tank said, looking puzzled at what he thought was a change of subject. "What's that got to do with anything?"

An hour later we got off the plane to find Hector waiting for us. It was morning, but the sun wasn't shining. The air-strip sat in the middle of a verdant plain and was surrounded by mountains whose peaks were hidden in the clouds. At any other time I would have enjoyed the beauty of my surroundings, but I was distracted by Hector's open arms and his loud declaration of "Mi esposa!"

I stepped into his hug as I remembered I was traveling once again as Stefani Diaz. My arms went around his neck and we shared a quick but ardent kiss. As we moved apart, Hector's arm went around my shoulders, and he continued to play the part of a loving husband.

"Do you think we have convinced anyone watching?" Hector softly questioned. I turned back to look at Tank.

"I hope so," I answered. "Tank is following us looking like he's trapped in an episode of the Twilight Zone."

My smile widened as we approached the vehicle that would take us to Merida. It was the same disreputable looking car Ranger and I had made our escape in. I hopped in the back and let Tank ride shotgun.

"Report," Tank barked to Hector as soon as we were underway.

"We are headed to a taverna in Merida called Bolero. It is operated by a friend of Padre Armando." I shot Tank a look to see if he'd noticed Hector's use of the word padre. He gave no indication.

"Are we armed?" Tank asked.

"It is taken care of," Hector said. He quit talking for a moment and concentrated on passing a dilapidated truck moving slowly in front of us on the narrow road.

Hector continued. "The padre helped Ranger by taking him to a man who knew Eduardo Ruiz, to see if he could tell them if there was a relationship between Eduardo and Jolie. The man told Ranger that Jolie was Eduardo's son. Then they went to Reina, a friend of the padre's, and she explained it was Eduardo's grandson, Jolie's nephew, who was looking for Ranger. According to Ranger, Reina has her ear to the underside of Merida, and she called Padre Armando in the middle of the night, to tell him it was being circulated, Ranger was at the monastery.

"So the monastery is in danger," I said, thinking of the peace-filled, contemplative monks and how an intrusion into their world could destroy the carefully built coffee business, and possibly the entire monastery.

"Yes," Hector continued. "But Father Armando feels certain Montenegro's men won't attack the monastery. That would bring the wrath of too many God-fearing people down on him, and he needs good relationships with people here to continue the business. Montenegro is a wanted man in the United States. He will run the entire business from Venezuela, and it is in his best interest to leave the monastery alone. Padre Armando thinks anyone leaving the monastery will be scrutinized. He thinks it will be safe for us to come in, because they think Ranger is already there. They are more interested in who leaves rather than who arrives."

"The plan is for us to get smuggled into the monastery," Tank said, "and then leave in the middle of the night, tonight, and go down the mountain." Then he turned to look at me. "We'll go down the mountain in much the same way that you and Ranger came up."

I groaned. I knew how hard it was to climb the mountain, and I didn't look forward to the thought of trekking back down it. Even if I would be surrounded by three capable men. I knew better than to complain though.

"What are we going to be doing at the bar?" Tank asked.

"I talked with Ranger this morning, early," Hector said. "He said we are to leave this car behind the taverna, and go inside to meet with Reina. The bar won't be open this time of day, but she is preparing a special delivery of wine to be delivered to the monastery, and we will be in the van. One of her men will hide the car where Ranger left it on his way up the mountain and when we get back down we can use it to get to El Vigia, and get the hell out of Dodge, si?" It sounded funny to hear Hector utter such an American colloquialism in his accented English, but I didn't smile. The timing just wasn't right.

Hector seemed to know his way around Merida, at least well enough to get us to the bar. I saw a small sign that proclaimed 'Bolero', but we drove on by and made a series of turns that had me very confused. Hector turned one last time down a narrow alley and pulled to a stop in front of an unmarked door. We got out of the car and I was relieved to see the door swing inward and a woman step into the doorway.

"Hello Reina," Hector said. She smiled and stepped out of the building toward Hector. I saw him stiffen. She came close to him and stood staring at him for a few moments, then her head turned and she gave me a cursory glance. Her eyes zeroed in on Tank and she said something in Spanish that seemed to put Hector at ease. He turned and motioned to Tank and myself to follow them, and he walked with Reina through the doorway into the dark interior.

Reina was old. I don't know what I'd expected, but what I saw was a woman with gray hair pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her clothing consisted of a simple black skirt and a black blouse cut low enough to reveal a deep crevice of cleavage. Large silver hoops dangled from her ears, and her lips were outlined in a red so dark it looked like blood. I had plenty of time to observe her, because she was mesmerized by Tank.

"You are a friend of Carlos?" she asked him. Tank nodded and she stepped very close to him. Her hand reached out to grasp Tank's forearm. "Well, any friend of Carlos is a friend to Reina." Her voice was low throaty and heavily accented. To listen to her she sounded like a temptress, but to look at her she looked like Grandma Mazur playing dress-up. I liked this woman on first sight, and she liked Tank. I giggled. I couldn't help it. Maybe Tank was going to have to 'cooperate' to get her cooperation.

When Tank remained unmoving with his rigid posture, Reina shrugged and looked over to me. "You are here for Carlos?" she asked. I nodded. "Ah, then you are why he wasn't interested in joining me upstairs for a glass of my private stock. And speaking of private stock, come look at the selection of wine I have for you to take at the monastery." She turned and went into a small room off the one we were standing in, and we all followed.

The room was empty except for a table with two wooden boxes on it. There was a tool on the table that looked like a small crowbar. She picked it up and handed it to Tank. He used it to pry the lid off the larger of the two boxes, and I saw his attention focus entirely on the content of the box. Hector moved forward and had much the same reaction as he peered inside. My curiosity got the better of me and I went to look at the wine for the monastery.

The box was filled with weapons. Guns and knives, and holy cow! Was that a hand grenade? I knew enough to recognize a glock, but there were several other guns that were unfamiliar to me, although Tank and Hector seemed to be familiar. Tank's big hand reached in and pulled out a large handgun and turned to me. "Desert Eagle," he said attempting to ease the puzzled look on my face. "It a semi-automatic."

He turned to Reina. "Are Armando and Ranger expecting big trouble?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Armando is not expecting any trouble at all, but he made a request on Brother Rico's behalf. Brother Rico is a man who likes to be prepared, and I owe many favors to Armando. This is one way I can make restitution." Brother Rico, as in Ricardo Carlos? I supposed he would have to have a disguise, and brother Rico sounded as good as anything.

Reina motioned to the other box. "Ammunition," she said. "There should be enough to get you safely out of Venezuela. Armando brought his novice here the other day. They were trying to get information, and I told them what I knew. Montenegro is looking for Carlos, and possibly his woman, and he is a very dangerous man." My stomach roiled as I realized I could be in danger, just standing in this room.

"I warned Armando and Carlos, there are many people looking for him. Montenegro has offered a large reward for his capture. Unfortunately, it was in this place that someone recognized him. A man in my employ overheard talk of capturing him at the monastery, so providing you with this advantage is the least I can do. I don't know if Montenegro knows of Carlos' whereabouts, because the men who know may be trying to capture him on their own to get the reward for turning him over to Montenegro."

The revving of an engine, followed by the screeching of brakes caused Tank and Hector to tense. Before they could react any further, Reina waved a casual hand at them and smiled. "It is just the van from the monastery, right on time to pick up the wine delivery. Perhaps you'd like to arm yourselves before the trip up."

The door opened and Dom Ignacio entered the room. He was carrying a small box. "Hello," he said to Reina, "I have a gift for you from Dom Berto, and one from me as well. And I'm here to take my very precious cargo back to the monastery." He sat his small box down and reached in, to pull a small bag out and hand it to Reina. The fragrant scent of coffee perfumed the air, and I knew it was the monastery's special blend.

Introductions were made, and the cargo was loaded into the same small black van I had been a passenger in two short days ago. Hector, Tank and I were huddled on a blanket on the floor, out of sight of anyone looking. They had each armed themselves with a gun and a knife, and I felt safe, and excited, because I was only an hour away from Ranger.

The ride was uncomfortable, as we were traveling upward on a twisting road. Dom Ignacio was a careful driver, but even so I felt a little like a ping pong ball bouncing off the hardness of Tank and Hector. Finally, Hector reached out and pulled me into his arms, and anchored me to his side.

"Are you worried Chica?" he asked softly.

"Yes," I said.

"Don't be, this is just business as usual for RangeMan." I knew that to be true, and I wasn't worried about getting out safely. I was worried about Ranger's reaction when he saw me. Which Ranger would meet me? The man I'd grown close to on the trip up the mountain, or the man who'd kept his suspicions about de Franco from me. The squealing of the brakes told me I was about to find out.

Dom Ignacio had pulled the truck into a small garage, which was good. Tank and Hector would be able to get out of the van and move about freely. I couldn't figure out how anyone could spy on the monastery. It was on the highest mountain top in the area and looked out over vast and beautiful vistas, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

As we stood behind the van, a door opened and Father Armando walked in. I could see through the open doorway, and thought we were in the main guesthouse. He smiled at me, but turned his attention to Tank. He held out his hand to shake Tank's and introduced himself to both men.

Tank shook hands and said, "Nice to meet you in person, Padre," and he turned and gave me a little smile.

"Gentleman, if you will come with me, I will give you a little time to recover from your journey. We have a meal prepared for you, and then Carlos will be in to see you. He's doing quite well and has almost full use of his arm."

There was a tap on my shoulder, and I turned around to see brother Ignacio. "Stephanie, come with me please." He reached out and took my hand pulling me quickly out the door and along a short path. He opened a door and gently pushed me through. I was in the small guest house, once again segregated from the men. I slumped against the closed door, but before I could work up a decent pout, I knew, I was not alone.

"Babe," I looked up to see Ranger, in a brown monk's robe standing in the door way to the small bedroom. We met in the middle of the room, his arms wrapping around me and his lips coming down on mine simultaneously. It was as if we'd been apart for months, and we couldn't get enough of one another. His hands were under my shirt caressing my breasts then sliding around to my back to pull me closer, his lips never leaving mine. His tongue was in my mouth, and I was only feeling, not thinking. His desire was evident through the coarse fiber of the robe, and I knew there was a narrow bed in the room behind us. I was feeling a sudden need to get horizontal, and I thought maybe he had the same need.

Then unbidden, the term 'need to know' popped into my mind. Tank's warning about need to know wouldn't go away. Slowly I pulled back breaking the contact between our mouths. I spent a few moments trying to catch my breath, and then I said. "Tank told me I would be informed only on a need to know basis, but there are things I have to know, and things you have to know as well."

He moved away and turned his back to me for a moment. When he turned around his desire was obvious both in his eyes and lower below the level of his knotted rope belt. "Tell me what I need to know first," he said softly.

"Morelli is history," I said. "He knows it and accepts it. We won't be getting back together. This time it's permanent, and you know why." My eyes met his directly and didn't falter as I continued. "Why did you climb this mountain and never once tell me of your suspicion that de Franco was connected to your earlier mission here? Why couldn't you trust me enough to share your thoughts with me? I _need _to know."

**TBC...**


	14. Chapter 14

Cathy and I just want to thank everyone for staying with the story during the rush of the holidays. I like to use fanfic stories to reward and center myself after all the crazyness of real life. Hopefully our story gives you some relief as well.

Lori

*****.***.*****

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Fourteen: A Leap of Faith**

**Ranger's POV**

Stephanie stood before me; her breath still erratic and lips slightly swollen and blushed from our uninhibited reunion, but her eyes were steely and resolute. She'd asked a question and wanted an answer, and she wasn't going to budge until she got one. Ever since Tank had informed me she was on the plane and would be arriving at the monastery with them this afternoon, I had been preparing for this. Armando's words had helped me put some things into perspective. I'd made my decision, and I was about to give her a whole lot more than she bargained for.

"Stephanie…"

"Oh, god." Stephanie's quivering voice quickly cut me off. Her eyes released mine and dropped to her hands. "This isn't going to be good, is it?"

"Why do you say that?"

"You only call me Stephanie when you introduce me to someone, or when you're angry, or when you're about to tell me something you know I won't want to hear." She looked back up at me. "As far as I can tell, you and I are the only ones in the room, and that kiss you planted on me, when I came in, certainly didn't scream anger. So my guess is…that it must be door number three."

"You shouldn't be here, but I'm certainly not surprised, and I'm not angry with you. I do have a lot to say, though, and some of it you may not like very much. Will you listen?"

"Should I sit down for this?"

Stephanie actually looked very tired. She'd been on a plane for the last two days navigating over North and South America, and in between flights she'd ended a relationship with Morelli. Now she was bracing herself for an anticipated battle with me. She had to be on her last reserve of energy. I stepped toward her and put my hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Babe." In a motion I had always found soothing to Stephanie, as well as myself, I tucked one of her errant curls behind her left ear and ran my palm across her cheek. She leaned into the comfort. "You're exhausted and probably hungry. We can do this later."

"No!" She jerked away from my touch as if it suddenly burned. "We're doing this now! I've done nothing but stew about this for the last twenty-four hours, and we're going to have it out! No distractions, no delays…and no more lies of omission."

"All right, you'd better sit down."

I steered her backwards to the small, brown, Spartan couch that appeared to be the only comfortable seat in the austere guest room. When the backs of her knees hit the cushion, she collapsed with a telling lack of command over her body. I sat down as well and angled my body towards hers.

"Babe, trust has never…_never_ been an issue for me when it comes to you. I think you know that."

Stephanie was focused on her hands which were playing with the hem of her shirt. "I'd like to believe that, but your actions prove otherwise."

"Steph…, Babe, I have trusted you with my life more than once. A trust that, before I met you, I had only placed in those men who are part of my core team. You know about Rachel and Julie. You know where my parents live. You know my secrets."

"Not all of them, evidently." Her voice held bitterness and hurt that made my heart ache.

"No, not all of them." Stephanie finally lifted her eyes to mine, and I continued, "But there will always be things that I…"

Stephanie cut me off again, as she abruptly stood in obvious frustration and paced away from the couch. "I understand all of that! That's not what I'm asking about!" She stopped her pacing and turned to face me with her Italian temper rearing its head…loudly. "We were on a mission together! We were supposed to be partners! I'm not stupid or naïve enough to think my talents, or training, or experience are anywhere near yours, and they never will be, but I thought…. You made me believe…." I could see that her emotions were catching up with her, and her voice weakened. "I thought I was more than just a distraction, this time."

I stood and walked toward her. "You were not just a distraction, Babe. You…"

She put up her hand to stop my advance. "No! I was a very expensive distraction. I was paid to look sexy as hell and provide a cover and a diversion to those men who would be looking at your real motives for being in San Cristobal. I was paid for being a woman. I was paid for what my sex could provide. It may have been disguised with the fancy and legitimate title of 'RangeMan Employee', but I was really nothing more than a highly paid whore."

I'd heard enough and pushed my way past her outstretched hand. I grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her to get her attention. It worked. The shock that I would handle her so roughly was clearly reflected on her face. "Don't you _ever_ call yourself that! Stephanie, you have no idea what…You have no idea how much worth I place on your trust and loyalty to me. You are not a whore, and neither I, nor any one of my men, have ever thought of you that way! You are a valued employee of my company. You were essential to the success of this mission."

Stephanie must have recovered from her initial shock, because she modified her face. It hardened, and the only telltale sign of emotion could be found in the tears that were welling in her eyes that she was fighting like hell to keep from falling. "Tank knew of your suspicions about de Franco. Lester and Hector knew of your suspicions about de Franco. MORELLI knew of your suspicions about de Franco! Hell, Ranger, I bet even Armando knew of your suspicions about de Franco. But I. Didn't. Know! If I was so damned important, why didn't you tell ME?"

I took a step back from her. When I noticed that she had lost the battle with her tears, I took both of her hands and attempted to pull her back to the couch. She resisted at first and pushed me away, but I persisted, and, frankly, I think she was just too tired to fight anymore, and she surrendered. This time when we sat, I pulled her into my lap; her back to my chest. She was still shaking in anger. I wrapped my arms around her waist and lowered my head to her shoulder so I could speak calmly into her ear. "I told you, Babe, that trust was never an issue, but I didn't tell you that fear _was_. When I was shot in de Franco's office, I knew I couldn't protect you the way I needed to in order to get you out of the country safely. I didn't give you more details about what I had seen at the resort, because I only had suspicions, and I didn't have any way to confirm my suspicions without investigating further. Getting you to safety was my first priority, and I didn't want to worry you unnecessarily until I had more proof as to what I had seen and what it meant. I didn't want to pull Hector off his follow up surveillance; it was too important, so I changed our exit strategy to bring us here."

Stephanie relaxed a little in my arms. "What happened at the resort that made you so afraid?"

"Do you remember when de Franco and his goon came into our room, and he took your hand to kiss it?"

When I felt her physically shiver, I could tell Stephanie was remembering that exact moment. "Yes," she replied in a near whisper.

"I was watching closely, because I was very wary about his proximity to you."

Stephanie leaned to one side and turned to look at me. "I was also naked." She released some of her defensive anger and gave me a half smile. "I don't suppose that had anything to do with your diligent observation."

I gave her a smile in return. "That was an enjoyable side benefit to an otherwise tense situation."

She blushed slightly and turned back into my arms. "Go on."

"When he lifted your hand, I noticed a ring," I continued. "A ring, I was pretty sure, I had seen before."

"I saw the ring, too. When we had our debriefing at RangeMan with Joe, we talked about this." She turned to face me again, and this time she scooted off of my lap and settled herself next to me on the couch. "That's when you made the connection between de Franco and your mission all those years ago."

"That's when I got scared."

"What do you mean, you got scared?"

"I told you, Babe, that I had found pictures of you in de Franco's office. At first I thought that it suggested he had an informant from the DEA on his payroll."

"Higgins."

"Yes. I was distracted enough by the discovery to be taken by surprise and shot. At the time, I reasoned that the pictures meant that de Franco had been doing the surveillance on you because Higgins had told him about you being part of the covert operation, or that posssibly he was attracted to you in some sort of sick, perverted way that we needed to be cautious of. But after seeing the ring, I couldn't ignore the probability that de Franco had been looking at those pictures in his office, because he had seen you and I at the resort together, and he was thinking about revenge."

"You were scared that de Franco would use me to get to you for killing his father?"

"I didn't know at the time that he was Ruiz's son, but, yes, I thought there might be some connection."

"But at RangeMan it was decided that de Franco was unaware of your connection to his father's death. Tank and Joe both think it was his nephew Andres holding all of the cards."

"That's what I discovered here, too. I was able to confirm their theory with some investigative work I did here with some of the locals in Merida."

Stephanie smiled, and my heart sored. "I know. I met Reina." Her smile got bigger. "She likes you…a lot. Should I be worried?" Her teasing tone gave me hope that her anger was waning.

I leaned forward, gave her a kiss, and spoke against her lips. "What do you think?"

She pulled back and gave me a look that told me I wasn't off the hook yet. "I think what you've told me still doesn't explain everything. I think there's another reason you didn't tell me about your mission seven years ago. Why did you stay here, instead of going back to Trenton with me? I spoke with Father Armando before I left. He led me to believe there was more to it. "

"Babe, what I saw in the resort brought my greatest fear into existence. To have you sought after and harmed by an enemy I had made as a result of one of my missions…was something I couldn't bear…again. And then…on our way up the mountain, we changed. I changed. I shared things with you that intensified our relationship. I knew I needed to stay here. I needed to talk to Armando. I needed to put some things to rest. You told me that you wanted to end it with Morelli, and I couldn't ask you to turn to me when I was still being haunted by those fears.

"Again?"

"What?" I was confused by her question.

"You said, 'me being harmed by an enemy from one of your missions was something you couldn't bear _again_'. That's never happened before. Scrog is the only time that I've been put in a dangerous situation because of my connection to you, and I put myself into that position willingly…with my eyes wide open. And Scrog was just a random crazy. He wasn't connected to one of your past missions.

"It has happened before, but it wasn't you." I finally confessed.

"I don't understand. Who was it?"

I took both of Stephanie's hands in mine and rubbed my thumbs over her soft warm skin. I was just opening my mouth to speak when there was a tentative rap at the door. I stood, opened the door, and found Dom Ignacio standing on the other side, balancing a tray of food and drink with a duffel bag sitting at his feet. Assuming the bag was Steph's, I picked it up.

"I'm sorry for the disruption, Brother," he nervously spoke as he pushed his way past me and into the room. "But your friend Hector insisted that I bring this to his…uh, wife." He caught Stephanie's eye and spoke directly to her. "He is concerned that you have not eaten in a while, and he was quite adamant that you have nourishment to "boost your energy". He said you would need it…if you intended to remain in here much longer with Brother Carlos." The poor monk looked thoroughly confused, but dutifully set the tray on the small kitchen table. "Is there anything else you require?"

Stephanie stood from the couch and made her way over to the table. "No. Thank you, Dom Ignacio. This looks wonderful, and I am very hungry." She hesitated a moment and then added, "Please tell Hector that I'm glad he was thinking of me."

Ignacio nodded and left the room.

Stephanie shook her head slowly. "Poor guy. Has Father Armando told them anything? I mean, Ignacio saw me arrive here with you only days ago. Then he's asked to covertly drop me off in an alley, where I'm whisked into a hotel by Hector. And then he's sent to pick me up at a bar in Merida, where I had been hanging with the likes of Reina, Tank, and a box full of guns." She gestured toward the food. "And now Hector, claiming to be my husband, tops it all off by sending him in with this. He probably ran straight to the sanctuary to light five candles and recite forty Hail Marys; just to save me."

I set Steph's bag in a chair and headed over to the table. I filed away the thought of Hector and her as husband and wife. _Dios_, it was supposed to be a one-time, simple assignment, not a lifelong commitment. I was going to have to ask him about that later. "They're used to following orders with no explanation," I said. "I imagine Armando has only told them things on a need to know basis."

Stephanie removed the plates and cups from the tray and set the table for two. "This looks tasty. Why don't we eat?" She had the food uncovered and was dishing it out. "Tank explained the 'need to know' theory of imparting information on a mission, but I think there is a big discrepancy between what you may think I _'need to know'_ and what _'I need me to know'_. Start talking."

I took a seat at the table, and we both occupied ourselves with the business of eating. I surreptitiously studied Stephanie. I was having trouble reading her mood. This wasn't the brash, empowered woman who left me less than forty-eight hours ago. She was giving me whiplash with the wild emotional swings she'd been exhibiting since entering the room; passionate, angry and determined one moment, defeated and insecure the next, and downright teasingly playful in between. It suddenly occurred to me that it was really no different than the behavior I had demonstrated toward her over the last few days. I'd set the bar for mixed messages, and she was meeting it. We were quite a pair. I suddenly had a strong urge to grab her out of that chair and carry her to the bedroom. Physical intimacy always worked for us and came easy. It was our denial place with no complications and no other objective than to give one another pleasure. Emotional intimacy was a different story. We stumbled over it repeatedly; both of us guilty of being afraid to give the other too much information about our true feelings. I restrained myself, because if we were going to maintain anything fulfilling and lasting between us, both of those failings were going to need a lot of work; beginning with some honesty and communication.

"I don't know what you read about my mission. I've never seen the reports Morelli shared with you at RangeMan, but my guess is they contained a series of dates, names and logistical facts. If the mission had only consisted of those facts, my life would be different today. I'm going to tell you what the reports didn't."

Stephanie looked at me with wide eyes. "Ranger, I don't want you to get into trouble by telling me things you're not allowed to share."

"Don't worry, Babe. I'm not going to reveal any national secrets. Just my own."

She silently encouraged me to continue with a nod.

"Several years ago, Eduardo Ruiz was a small time thug who set up shop in a little town near here called Tabay. He quickly built his name and fortune in the Venezuelan drug trade. There was a young woman in Tabay that had basically inherited a trustee position in the town. She took her legacy role very seriously and used some of her deceased father's very influential connections to make an appeal to our government to step in. He had already begun making moves into the international market, so the US felt justified in protecting its interests by acting on her request."

"They sent you."

"Yes. The woman became my contact. She had informants among some of the locals who held positions in Ruiz's household. Her information and assistance were invaluable. She made it possible for me to get to Ruiz."

"Will you tell me about her?"

"Her name was Yessenia Mendez. She was smart, dedicated, strong…"

"Beautiful?" Stephanie questioned.

"Yes," I didn't hesitate. "I'd never met anyone like her before." I didn't hold back. "We fell in love."

Stephanie's faced changed in an instant. "That's why you stayed here when I left. Because of her?"

"Yes."

"Oh," she weakly exhaled. I could see the wheels turning in her head as she visualized the idea of my relationship with Yessi. "She's the one. She's the 'someone in your life'; your undefined relationship. She's...here." Stephanie couldn't look at me anymore. She scooted her chair away from the table and made herself artificially busy by moving dishes back onto the tray. "I…I understand now. If I had known about this, I wouldn't have…Listen, I'll just find Tank and Hector and get out of your way…."

I put my hand over hers to stop her busywork. "Babe…"

"No, Ranger!" She snapped her hand away from mine. She was flustered. "I get it. I need to…I'll just…" She froze for a split second and everything about her demeanor changed again. She picked up a mug from the tray and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and shattered, leaving a spray of coffee on the wall.

I stood from the table and turned to her. She lifted her hand, and it was clear that she intended to strike me across the face. I grabbed her wrist, stopping it mid-swing. "You're wrong!" I firmly whispered. "You need to listen to me."

"I can't, right now," she gritted out between clenched teeth. She tried to tug her hand from my grip, but I held on and pulled it to my lips instead. Her shoulders sagged, and she pleaded with me. "Please let me go. This hurts too much."

"Babe, Yessi is not here. She's dead."

Stephanie stilled as she processed my words. I took advantage of her dazed state and pulled her back over to the couch. "Dead?" She mumbled.

I put my hands on her either side of her face and forced her eyes to meet mine. "Babe, you need to listen to _everything_ I have to say."

"Okay." she nodded slowly.

"When I came here seven years ago, my job was to get rid of Ruiz. Yessi was my contact. We worked very closely together. I even stayed at her family's estate. I broke one of my own cardinal rules of the job, and I allowed myself to get involved with a client. But I was very young then, and the attraction between us was strong and undeniable." I saw the hurt on Stephanie's face at hearing my words. "I'm not telling you this to make you upset, Babe. I'm telling you this because you need to understand why I act the way I do when it comes to protecting you at all costs, and why I have always struggled with making a defined commitment to you."

"I don't think you're the only one guilty of that, Ranger. I've had my own struggles with commitment to you, too."

"But you were only reacting to the signals I was giving off. My vague, half-baked theories on my relationships were just enough to keep you interested, but off balance. I couldn't keep you, but I couldn't give you up either."

"So you were confused. Lots of men have commitment issues."

I shook my head. "Babe, don't let me off that easy, I was an ass for what I put you through."

"Okay, you were an ass. I agree."

I couldn't help but smile at her statement. I stood from the couch and moved to the window of the small room. I could see several of the Brothers making their way across the compound toward the gate that led to the coffee fields. I continued with my story. "After several days of gathering intelligence, planning and waiting, the day came when the information and the opportunity came together to give us a break. I formed a plan to ambush Ruiz along a road that led from the village to his home. We knew that he would be leaving from a meeting with one of the town's magistrates he had in his back pocket. The plan required a diversion to stop his car along a stretch of road that wasn't heavily traveled. Yessenia insisted on being the distraction. She wouldn't allow anyone else to take the risk. I argued with her relentlessly." I turned toward Stephanie, gave a slight chuckle, and slowly shook my head. "But she possessed the same stubborn streak as a curly-headed brunette I know from Jersey."

"She sounds like someone I would have gotten along with." Stephanie remarked.

"You are like her in many ways, but so different in others." I sighed and turned back toward the window. "I was working alone, so I didn't have much of a choice. I needed someone I trusted to pull it off. I knew Yessi was motivated, and I did trust her. Once we had the car in position, I lifted the hood to establish her distress. I left her at the car and took cover a short distance down the road where I would be able to observe and approach the mark from behind. Ruiz typically rode in a sedan and had a driver who doubled as a body guard, but Yessi's informant had reported that he would be driving one of his sports cars and would be travelling alone, and that made it the perfect opportunity to get to him."

I stopped talking, and the view out the window changed. In front of me now, I could only see Yessi standing by that car, a nervous smile on her face as she watched me retreat.

"Was he? Alone?" Stephanie's voice caught me off guard, and I was jerked back to the present.

"No." My reply was husky. I turned and leaned against the wall to face Stephanie. "We waited almost half an hour, but eventually I recognized the roar of a high performance engine approaching our location, and I nodded to Yessi. She bent over the engine of her car, and when Ruiz's car came closer, she stood up and flagged it down. Ruiz parked his little Jaguar in the middle of the street and got out. I could hear her explaining the trouble to him. She was using her hands to show her frustration and at the same time was managing to keep his attention focused on her. When Ruiz leaned over the side of the car to inspect it, he laid his right hand on the edge of the side panel, and I saw his ring catch the light of the sun. I slowly made my way toward them. Yessi watched me as I approached and placed my gun at Ruiz's temple. I wasn't about to let her witness what I needed to do, so I signaled her to get back in the car."

I was getting to a very difficult part of my story, and I turned back to the window; away from Stephanie's intense focus on me.

"I heard the engine at the same time I saw the shock register on Yessi's face. It was a farm truck, loaded with children. It pulled over, and the children all hopped off the back to gawk at the unusual car. By then, Ruiz had caught on to what I was planning to do. In an attempt at self-preservation, he cheerfully encouraged the children to admire his car, surrounding himself with them." I growled and ran my hands through my hair at the frustration and helplessness I had felt then. "Everything after that, went FUBAR."

I could sense Stephanie's movement as she stood and came toward the window. She stood behind me with a single hand on my shoulder in support. "Ranger, don't do this," she pleaded. "Don't put yourself through this again. I don't need to hear this."

I heard her words, but I couldn't stop. I'd been reliving this scene off and on for the last seven years and non-stop for the last two days. Now I needed someone else to hear it. I needed Stephanie to hear it.

"Ruiz had made his way back to the driver's side of his car, still using the excitement of the children as his cover. I kept my eye trained on him the entire time, and I was unaware when the passenger's side window on Ruiz's car rolled down. In the next instant, Yessi was yelling out my name and had placed herself between me and a gun."

I closed my eyes and forced myself to relive the images one more time. "I only heard the shot…and then I felt the weight of her body against mine as the force from the impact of the bullet pushed her into my chest. I clutched her around the waist and pulled her to the front of her car for cover. It didn't matter…she…she was already dead."

Stephanie laid her face against my back and wrapped her arms around my waist. "I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Everything moved in slow motion after that. It felt like forever before I was able to focus or move, but the screams of the children gave me purpose. Ruiz had grabbed a little girl and was holding her against his chest as a shield; a gun aimed at her head. His passenger was out of the car and pointing his gun at the rest of the children huddled at the side of the road. Ruiz ordered me to throw down my gun, and then he would let the girl go. I left Yessi on the ground. I walked away from my cover, threw my gun to the ground, and made myself a target to draw their aim away from the children. There was a noise behind me. The door of the truck had opened. Someone shouted a warning…another shot, and I was down. Just before losing consciousness I realized that somehow, in the panic, the little girl had managed to get away from Ruiz. I pulled my secondary weapon from my ankle holster, aimed it at Ruiz, and pulled the trigger. When I came to, I was lying in the back of the truck with Armando leaning over me."

"What happened?"

"Armando had been a passenger in the truck. The farmer was giving him a lift to the outskirts of town where he would make the rest of his way back to the monastery on foot. He was the one that shouted the warning. He saw the farmer grab his gun and take aim at Ruiz's man and tried to stop him. The farmer didn't mean to hit me. It was a combination of bad timing, bad aim, and an old weapon."

"What about Ruiz?"

"Armando said I killed him with my shot. By his second attempt, the farmer had vastly improved his aim and had taken out Ruiz's man as well."

"You told me you walked up that mountain with Armando."

"I don't remember much about that. Armando told me later that the farmer didn't want to be seen helping me. He was afraid of retaliation. He took us only part of the way up the mountain and dropped us off in a remote area. He did agree to go back and take Yessi's body home. He would tell everyone he'd happened upon the tragedy on his way to town. Armando went back the next day and took care of her arrangements. I was out of it for a week. By the time I was lucid. Everything was done. Over. I never said goodbye to her." I turned in Stephanie's arms and wrapped mine tightly around her. I needed her comfort, but I needed to give her some, too.

"Have you done that now? Here? Said goodbye to her?" Stephanie asked with great concern in her eyes.

"Yes." This was a mostly honest response. There was one more thing I still needed to do. "Now you know my deepest secret, Amada. I loved once before and lost her. When I saw that ring again in San Cristobal, it all came flooding back, and I could only see you facing certain danger."

"This story. This awful tragedy. This is why, all these years, you wouldn't or couldn't build a relationship with me?"

I nodded. "It is why I have never been willing to take that step with anyone again…until you. And I even fought that."

Stephanie stepped away from our embrace and turned her back on me. "You're wrong about Yessi not being here, Ranger. She's still very much here, and I can't compete with that. If she was really here…alive and in the flesh, standing between me and what I want with you, I could handle that. I could fight that. But I can't compete against a lost love; one that died protecting you. I could never measure up to that. I would always fall short in your eyes." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I can't compete with a ghost."

I took her arm and turned her to face me. I cradled her face in my hands. Her eyes were glistening with tears. "Oh, Babe, I'm not asking you to. I can't say what would have happened between us if she hadn't been killed. We were young. We had only known each other for a few weeks, and the feelings between us were very strong. But I have come to terms with what happened to Yessi. My relationship with her is part of my past, just as Morelli is part of yours."

I could see that I was not getting through to her, so I cheated and relied upon what had worked in the past to get her attention. I leaned in and touched her lips to mine. As I took in her taste, the saltiness from her tears sparked a fear that she would reject me now. It was the most painful thought I'd had since arriving here, and I had a suspicion that the tears between us were not only hers. Maybe I should look at the Midol bottle for a listing of temporary side effects. I hesitantly pulled back, and my fear passed when I saw the look on her face. It was tender as she rubbed moisture from my cheek with her thumb.

"I've made you cry."

To protect what was left of my manhood, I ignored the remark. "Babe, I've known you a hell of a lot longer than a few weeks. I know for certain what I feel for you. For far too long, I've held onto the memory of a time and a relationship that don't exist anymore. But I know what I want. I want my future to include you. I love you."

"What about the fear?"

"That's something I have to deal with, and you'll have to be very patient with me, but I'm done denying myself a future with you because of fear."

"Ranger,…"

"Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me. Here…now. Before we leave this mountain."

"But…,"

"Don't say no, Babe. Marry me. Please."

**TBC….**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews on the last chapter. There were a few anonymous ones, We know you're out there! You can't hide. We'll thank you here instead.**

*****.***.*****

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Fifteen: Friends in High Places**

**Ranger's POV**

"Ranger, what's going on? I mean, listen to what you're saying!" Stephanie looked at me with sudden concern and put her hand on my forehead. "No fever." She pulled back and looked at my eyes. "It's the drugs, isn't it? You said Armando was giving you some kind of holistic stuff. Maybe it's causing hallucinations. You're still looking a bit tired. Is it the pain?" She turned toward the door. "I'm going to go and get him."

I grabbed her wrist to stop her from leaving. "Babe, I'm not hallucinating, and my pain is…minimal."

She took in my very sober expression and narrowed her look. "You're serious."

"Very."

"You want us to get married." She pointed her finger back and forth between us. "You and me. Today."

"Yes."

Stephanie didn't say another word. She just stared at me, but I could see the wheels turning, and I could smell smoke. After several moments of ruminating, she narrowed her eyebrows and settled on one word. "Why?"

Immediately, it struck me that words alone would be completely insufficient in explaining how all the contemplation and introspection I had done over the past two days had culminated in my absolute certainty that not only could I no longer tolerate a life without Stephanie, but I could no longer allow her to believe that I was anything less than totally committed to her and _only_ her.

I pulled her to me and cradled her face. I put my lips to hers and began my attempt at answering her question. When I felt her respond, familiar warmth spread from my core to my limbs, and I doubled my efforts at communication. I wanted Stephanie to understand that there would never be an 'on again, off again' pattern in our relationship. There would be no 'her place' and 'my place', but an 'our place'. There would be not just a 'her' and a 'me', but there would always be an 'us'. My entire body ached to convey that message, and I acted on it, allowing the influences of my Latin American heritage to take control. My lips reluctantly traveled away from hers and worked their way down the side of her neck. Then slowly, I made my way to her ear, where I nibbled first, and then uttered words from my heart.

"Es tu alma...tu luz...que me ha liberado de las tinieblas de mi soledad. El temor de no tenerte es más grande que cualquier mal que he enfrentado. Su presencia en mi vida es más satisfactoria que cualquier cosa que jamás hubiera imaginado. Yo soy tuyo, y usted será el mío...para siempre. Eso nunca va a cambiar. Te amo."

I was unable to voice my thoughts in English. They would have sounded cliché and trite. But delivered in the romantic language of my grandparent's native tongue, they rang true. They carried the emotion and meaning that I believed was essential she feel from me. _Dios,_ I really needed to check the label on that bottle of Midol.

"Wow!" Stephanie was breathless, and her eyes held a hint of restrained emotion. "I have no idea what you just said…but…it doesn't matter. I think it was the right answer."

I smiled. "Does this mean…"

"Yes." She closed her eyes and shook her head in apparent disbelief of her own answer. "God help me," she opened and fixed her eyes on mine, "This is totally nuts...,but yes, Ranger, I will marry you."

I pulled her back into my arms and kissed her again, this time conveying my absolute joy at her answer. Moments later, I felt her pull away.

She put both her hands on her head shaking it back and forth. "This is crazy! We've never even dated!"

She had a point, but I had one, too. "Did you date Orr?"

Stephanie looked confused by my question, but answered, "Yes. We did everything very traditionally. We dated, we got engaged, and then we got married."

"How did that work out for you?" She rolled her eyes and gave me the 'look'. "Babe, you're not a traditional woman, and I'm not a traditional man. Nothing about our relationship has ever been traditional. We definitely won't have a traditional marriage."

"I don't suppose we will," she said with some hint of regret in her voice.

"Does that bother you?"

She thought for a moment before answering very decisively. "No. I think traditional is over-rated. Been there done that. It was a total bust!"

"Babe, there will be no house in the 'Burg' for us. No picket fence. No nine to five husband. And...sometimes your husband will be called away...with not much notice and very little explanation."

"I understand."

I pulled her into an embrace and met her eyes. "But I promise that I will love you. Only you. Forever. And our life will never be routine or boring."

She got a devilish look in her eye. "Will you want me to cook?" She teased.

I leaned in to her neck and whispered in her ear. "The only place you should plan on cooking, Babe, is in the bedroom."

She moaned as I punctuated my statement by nipping at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, but she managed out a breathy retort. "That sounds very...traditional...Just the bedroom?"

"I'm sure we can be creative and come up with some unconventional places to make love, mi querida." I brought my mouth to hers, and things were just starting to get interesting, when I felt her becoming distracted, and she pulled away with a terrified look on her face. "Babe?"

"Oh, God," she said, in a panicked voice, "You want to get married today! I don't have anything to wear! I can't get married in jeans and a t-shirt! Can we even do that? Get married? This is Venezuela, but they must have rules!" Her thoughts rattled out at the speed of light.

"Babe, slow down. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything. I know people."

"People?" She looked suspicious. "Does the president or somebody owe you big time for suppressing the latest coup here?

"Not quite. I'm not exactly on Chavez's Christmas card list, but you don't have to worry, everything will be legal. You will be my wife."

"Okaaaay," she accepted my assurances. "But what about a dress, 'Mr. I'll Take Care of Everything'?"

I pulled her into another kiss. "Babe, you could get married in a paper bag, and you'd still be beautiful."

"I don't have a paper bag. I have two pairs of jeans, three t-shirts and a skort!"

"What the hell's a skort?"

"It's a pair of shorts that look like a skirt."

"So you've got a skirt, Babe. Wear it."

"Ranger! They're denim…and they're black! I can't wear black to my wedding."

There was no way in hell I was going to win here. This would be my first test at dealing with the irrational, emotional side of my wife, and I was determined to pass. I cradled her face in my hands and spoke calmly. "Babe, you're intelligent and creative. You can't disappoint me. You'll figure something out. When we're standing at the altar, I won't be looking at what you're wearing. I'll be looking into my bride's beautiful eyes, and I'll be thinking what a lucky bastard I am that you're marrying me." I kissed her, hoping that it would be enough to erase her worries. "I'm going to go talk to Tank, and then I'll make the arrangements with Armando. I want you to go see Tank, too, before tonight. I want you carrying when we leave here, and he's got all the weapons. They're using the room just across the courtyard." I looked at my watch. "It's four thirty. Be ready by seven. You need to be Mrs. Manoso, by 7:30, because that's when we're leaving the monastery." I pulled her close and kissed her thoroughly one last time. "Thank you for saying yes, Babe. I love you."

I left her standing in the middle of the room with her mouth hanging open; looking bewildered.

**Hector's POV**

Tank and I had shared an afternoon meal with the brothers of the monastery. I had received more than a few curious looks from some of them. I was used to it. My tattoos draw attention. Most of the time, it's not the good kind. When women see me, they tend to pull their children closer, or tuck their purses tighter against their bodies. Men are more covert. They spend a few seconds casually trying to figure out my tats before giving me a nod like everything is cool and shit. But really, they're trying to calculate out how much money they may lose when they give up their wallet to avoid losing an ear. I work hard at coming across as a dangerous bad-ass, and it pays off.

After lunch, we were shown to a room in the guest house. Our munitions boxes had been placed on the small kitchen table. It must have taken three of those little guys to drag that shit in here.

We were taking inventory of the contents, when Ranger walked in. He acknowledged me with a nod and asked Tank for a report. Tank gave the boss a complete rundown of the weapons I had been able to procure with RangeMan's money. He didn't show it, but I knew he was pleased. I was glad to see that, because he was going to owe me hazard pay.

I had not had the time to contact and deal with our last supplier in San Cristobal. I had needed someone local. The Padre had suggested the old woman Reina at the bar. She was shrewd and had demanded the money up front, but she had worked fast, the deal had been clean, and the arms she had provided were more than satisfactory. But _Madre de Dios__,_ it had been like spending time with an octopus. I had even resorted to informing her of my specific tastes; something I prefer to keep private, but desperate times…. It backfired. The woman had taken it as a challenge. She had said she _'knew some things'_ and could fix me. I still shake at the memory.

We spent a few minutes going over the plan for leaving the monastery later in the evening, then Ranger asked Tank if he'd brought 'the package'. Tank nodded, pulled a good sized padded envelope from his duffel, and gave it to him. Ranger shook his hand and signaled him to step outside for a moment. A few minutes later, Tank returned without the boss, wearing a shit-eatin' grin on his face. _What the hell?_

I grabbed my duffel and headed for the shower. Not much later, I finished, stepped out of the steamy bathroom, and headed into the bedroom to change. I could hear Tank talking in the main room.

"You're a baseball fan, right, Bomber?"

"I can tolerate a Mets game every once in a while," Stephanie answered less than enthusiastically.

"How's your throwing arm?" He asked.

"When I was a kid, my friend Mary Lou and I played on a recreational softball team. I played first base. I can still get it to third pretty quick if I need to."

There was a beat of silence before Tank responded, and I could actually hear the grin on his face. "I'll bet you can."

"Ha ha." Her reply was flat and sarcastic, and I could almost guarantee that she rolled her eyes at the remark." Why do you ask?"

"Think you can handle one of these?"

I was curious by now and wandered into the room as I buttoned up my shirt. I arrived just in time to see a grenade land in Stephanie's outstretched hands. Her eyes went wide, and in the blink of an eye, she tossed it back.

"Hell no, Tank! I don't need to carry anything that causes an explosion!"

Tank chuckled and put it back in the box.

Steph noticed my entrance and gave me a welcoming smile as she nodded toward Tank. "He's telling jokes and smiling…a lot! His Mr. Serious is slipping. Is this how he gets when he needs a nap?"

Not really understanding his mood myself, I shrugged my shoulders. "It's been a long day, chica."

"Ain't that the truth," Tank blew out a breath, "And it's going to get a lot longer. Little girl, we need to get you dressed."

"Yeah," she sighed and looked down at her jeans, "I guess I can't get married in this."

I know my face showed some shock at that statement, but Tank didn't even blink. Suddenly his private conversation with the boss made sense. "Yeah, congratulations on that," he said, slightly distracted by the contents of the box. He picked up one of the smaller hand guns. "Here, carry this."

"Awwww thanks, big guy. And here I was thinking flowers down the aisle would be nice." Stephanie took the gun and held it in front of her like a bouquet. "But this…this really works for the occasion. I could put a knife in my garter, too."

Tank was actually thinking about it. Apparently Mr. Serious was back. "Not a bad idea. Knives and garters are not my area of expertise, though. Maybe Hector can help you with that."

Stephanie dropped her playful appearance and looked soberly back and forth between the two of us. "Do you think we're crazy…Ranger and I…getting married?"

Tank continued to play with the guns in the box. "Not my business."

Stephanie got indignant with his answer. "Like hell it isn't! This changes everything. This changes RangeMan! As his best friend and second in command, it changes things for you!"

"Does it?"

Well…well…yeah!" Stephanie stumbled over her answer as if she was suddenly unsure herself.

Tank finally put the guns aside and gave Stephanie his full attention. "Think about it, Stephanie. Since the day he met you, you've been a big part of his life. Even at the very beginning, I saw him drop everything and anything to answer a call from you, or check on you when you'd gone off line. You've slept in his apartment. You've worked for his company. You've driven his cars…" Tank took a moment here to shake his head. "I still can't believe he lets you drive his Porsche. Man, if that alone doesn't tell us everything about who you are to him…." He put his hands on the table and leaned over them to bring his eyes down to Steph's level. "No, you're not crazy. I learned a long time ago not to second guess Ranger. He instinctively knows people. They may be the least likely looking candidate for the job," He swung a glance over to me. "But he never,_ never_ makes a mistake when it comes to the people he trusts."

Stephanie was getting a little emotional. Her eyes were welling with tears that she wouldn't let fall. "Thanks, Tank. I needed to hear that from you. I don't want to do anything to mess things up at RangeMan."

Tank scoffed. "Mess things up? Hell, Bomber, if anything, you are going to make life easier for all of us."

"What do you mean?"

"We won't have to deal with his postpartum depression anymore," he said.

Stephanie gave him a confused look, so Tank continued.

"Yeah. Every time he _delivered_ you to Morelli, we had to deal with his shit for days. Sometimes weeks."

I nodded my agreement. I had been on the receiving end of his 'moods' a few times myself.

Stephanie let out a deep sigh. "You don't think this is all kind of sudden?"

Tank shook his head. "Be honest. How long have you been in love with Ranger?"

Stephanie looked down as if slightly embarrassed. "I don't know, a couple of years, maybe."

"Does two years seem _sudden_ to you?"

"No," she hesitated. "It seems like a lifetime."

"Well, there you go." Tank nodded as if the concern had been settled.

Stephanie looked at me for confirmation. "You two will be all right, chica. I think it is a good match."

She smiled in relief. "Well then, I guess I'd better go. I still need to find something to wear." She tucked her gun into the back of her jeans. "Will you guys be…there?"

Tank nodded. "Ranger asked me to stand up for him as best man."

Stephanie looked surprised. "Oh, that's…nice. I didn't even think…" She hesitated a moment as if she was thinking something through. "Hector?"

"Si, Chica?"

"Will you be mine?"

"Be your _what_, Steph?"

"My…uh…best man...of honor." She said sheepishly. "I can't very well ask you to be my maid of honor."

I put my hand on my chin and jokingly gave it some thought. "I don't know, Bonita. Does that not require me to host a bridal shower, pick out wedding colors, and help you squeeze into sexy undergarments?"

Stephanie gave me a big smile. "I think we can skip the whole shower and shopping thing. It's a bit late for that, and I can manage my own undergarments, thank you very much. But I could use some help with this hair." She sounded hopeful.

"I can do that. When do you need me?"

"An hour?" She guessed. "I brought more stuff with me this time." She lifted a section of her curly mane. "We should have everything we need to get this under control once I shower."

I nodded and grinned again. "I will bring my knives. Maybe you could pick out one you will like for the garter."

Steph opened the door to leave and paused in the doorway. She turned and pulled out her newly acquired gun. "It's funny. In every bridal magazine, there's always at least one article on what the well-dressed bride is wearing. Never once did I read that a revolver or stiletto knife had made the list. Stiletto heels, maybe, but never a knife." She looked at Tank who was politely listening, but was starting to glaze over with the hair and bridal talk. "Maybe I'll start a new trend."

**Ranger's POV**

I opened the door of the chapel and made my way to the altar once again. In just a few hours, I would be standing side by side with Stephanie, pledging my life to hers. I was ready to do that, but I had one more task to perform before I could finally say goodbye to Yessi.

I set down the padded envelope and pulled out the wooden box that I had asked Tank to retrieve from the safe in my apartment. He'd done it; no questions asked. Tank knows a lot about my life, but the contents of this box were known only to me. Inside were three items. Each one a representation of an important woman in my life; three women who held an equal share in my heart. That was about to change. I was here in this chapel to ask Yessi to step aside and leave me to my life with Stephanie.

I opened the box, and the item I sought was sitting safely cradled amongst the other two. I lifted it from the box and tentatively ran a single finger over the disc. I was surprised the detail still remained. After Yessi died, I had kept constant possession of it either in my hand or pocket. Even a year after her death, it wasn't uncommon for me look down, only to see it in my hand with no memory of how it had gotten there; my fingers abstractedly rubbing its surface.

I hadn't discovered it in my possession until nearly two weeks into my recovery, when I had made my first attempt to get dressed in my own clothes. Upon his return to assist with her funeral arrangements, Armando had wisely removed all of my personal effects from Yessi's house to cover up my involvement. I found the keychain, along with my other possessions, in the dresser in my cell. When I had asked about it, Brother Teo had explained that the keychain and key had been found in my pocket when I had arrived at the monastery with Armando, so they had placed it with my other belongings. It was then I remembered. That day on the road, I had been the one who had driven Yessi's car, and I had pocketed the key before moving to my hiding place. Other than my painful memories, it was the only thing I had left of her.

I removed the treasured memento from the box, kissed it, and placed it on the altar. I closed my eyes, and, in a long, silent prayer, I asked her to forgive me. Some minutes later, I left the chapel leaving behind a small piece of my heart and the only physical link I'd had to my difficult, unresolved past. Now, I was freely walking toward my future with Stephanie.

**Hector's POV**

I knocked on Bonita's guest house door, but she didn't answer. I'd just seen Ranger heading into the abbey, so I knew she was most likely alone. I opened the door and walked in. I found her in the bedroom standing over the limited selection of clothing that she had brought from Trenton. She was lost in thought and hadn't heard me enter.

"Steph?" I cautiously called out.

She jumped slightly at my voice, but turned around and forced a smile. Her hair was wet, and she was wearing a long tan tunic I could only assume she had found in one of the drawers. "This is it!" She threw her hands up in despair. "This is what I have to choose from!" She was a little freaked out and very near to tears. "I can either wear this giant hefty bag, or I can wear a t-shirt and a black skort!

I looked for the positive. "The skort is not so bad, chica."

"Hector, I don't want to get married in a t-shirt. I want to look nice. I want to be pretty. A girl's supposed to be pretty on her wedding day."

She was breaking my heart. This woman had flown across two continents three times for Ranger, and I was going to make this day work for her. "I have an idea." I said to her, wanting to give her some hope. "Give me ten minutes, okay?"

I hustled out of her room and headed back to the one Tank and I had use of for the day. I could hear Tank in the shower; all the better for what I was about to do. It took me less than a minute to find what I needed. I left our room and headed for the abbey. Five minutes later, I had everything, and I headed back to Steph's.

Since I had left her, Steph had put on the black skirt and the white t-shirt with little black flowers embroidered across the front and was standing in front of the small mirror in the bathroom putting on some make-up.

She turned and looked at me. "This is just going to have to do." She said, referring to her outfit. "I'm sorry I was so whiney and acted like Bridezilla before. I just want everything to be perfect, and there's no time to make it that way."

"It's okay, Steph. It is your wedding day. You get to be nervous and short-tempered. But I think we can do a little better than that t-shirt. Take it off."

"Wha..what?...Why?"

"I have something better. Go on…take it off." I encouraged, and I held out my alternative.

She took it from my hand and spun her finger in a little circle. "Turn around," she ordered.

"Chica, we are husband and wife, and you have had your tongue down my throat, so I do not think…"

"TURN AROUND!" She shouted.

I gave in and turned my back to her. "Si, mi esposa."

"Jeez, Hector, that's all I need; Ranger walking in here with you in the bedroom and me in nothing but a skirt and bra. Or better yet, Dom Ignacio. I've already given that man enough work in the soul-saving department to last him into the next…" She stopped talking, and I turned around. "Where did you get this?"

"It's mine."

"It's a beautiful silk dress shirt, Hector, but I can't tuck it in. There's too much fabric for this little skort."

"That is what this is for." I knelt before her and wrapped the wide black belt twice around the solid white shirt at her waist and buckled it in front. The shirt bloused out just enough to look feminine and ended just a couple of inches above the hem of her black skirt. I finished the look by rolling each sleeve three times so they ended just below her elbows and standing the collar straight up in the back to give it a softer, more formal look as it caressed her long neck. I stood back and admired my work. "What do you think?" I asked.

Stephanie turned and stepped back into the bathroom to try and get a full length look at herself. "Wow!...Wow! I look…I look…"

"Beautiful, mi esposa?" I walked up behind her and kissed her on the cheek. "Beautiful enough to get married?"

"Yeah." Steph seemed to be dazzled by her appearance. Her eyes met mine in the mirror and she smiled. "Thank you. It's wonderful." She looked down at the belt. This belt is huge. It looks like it could fit…." She froze and looked up at me. "You didn't!"

"I did. Tank's a big boy. He'll get over it. There are just a few more things to do." I reached around her to the countertop, grabbed a hair pick, and lightly picked out her drying curls, while she added a couple of spritzes of something she called 'Mr. Alexander's Miracle Spray". The curls fell softly down her back and framed her face. "Shoes." I said.

"Oh…those I have." She scurried over to her bag and pulled out a pair of white sandals with a medium heel. "I didn't know if you and I were going to need to pose as a couple again, and I felt like a tropical bird in that dress you picked out for me before, so I brought the skort and sandals as a precaution."

"Good." I said. I walked out to the main room and came back with the final piece of her bridal outfit in my hand. "This should really make you look and feel like a bride, Carina." I unfolded the delicate, white linen cloth and placed it over her head. I lifted two hair pins from the cosmetic bag on the counter and fastened it into place. When I was sure that is was secure, I turned her toward the mirror one final time.

"Hector, this is an altar cloth." She whispered as if I had presented her with the Holy Grail.

"Today it is a bridal veil, chica. I do not think God will mind." I brushed off her concern. I wasn't about to tell her that I had poached the fine piece of linen from an abbey closet. "What do you think?"

"I'm a bride!" She said in utter amazement. "I really look like a bride!"

**TBC…**

Translation: "It is your soul…your light...that has freed me from my lonely darkness. The fear of not having you is greater than any evil I have ever faced. Your presence in my life is more fulfilling than anything I have ever imagined. I am yours, and you will be mine…forever. That will never change. I love you."


	16. Chapter 16

***.***.***

_A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than some of the previous posts, but don't be disappointed. We're posting twice today! It's our holiday gift to those of you who've been so kind with your reviews...so read now and read later. Happy holidays!_

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Sixteen: Dom Berto's Gift**

**Stephanie's POV**

I was still looking at myself in the mirror when there was a knock on the door of the guest house. Hector left me gazing at his handiwork and went to greet my visitor. The initial excitement of finding my appearance to be bridal was fading, and another feeling was taking its place. There was a little jingling of awareness, not exactly spidey sense and definitely not pre-wedding nerves, but there was a skittering of electricity I couldn't define.

I became aware of a conversation being conducted in Spanish between Hector and my visitor. I didn't recognize the other voice, but I was certain I'd heard the name Carlos mentioned. Mindful of my appearance, I didn't know whether to stay in the room or follow my natural curiosity. The wedding was so unplanned, and Hector had done such a good job of transforming me, I didn't want to risk running into Ranger unexpectedly. My decision was made for me when Hector appeared in the doorway and motioned for me to follow him.

The small wizened man in the outer room was entirely brown. His skin, wrinkled from age and sun exposure, almost exactly matched the shade of his robe. His posture was erect, despite his advanced age, and he was standing quietly inside the door. His eyes were small black orbs. They widened and became framed with white as he saw the lace-edged, linen altar cloth on my head. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "No matter," and smiled at me. He was carrying a basket over his arm.

"Chica, this is Dom Berto," Hector said. "He wants to tell you a story and give you a small gift, but he doesn't speak English, so I will translate."

"All right," I said, wondering what story he could have for me. Dom Berto began speaking so quickly that I couldn't make out any of the few words I might have known. They all ran together for me, and I couldn't even tell when one sentence ended and the other began. He then went silent, waiting.

"He tells the story," Hector said, "of a young man who was brought here very ill in both body and spirit. Father Armando used his skills to heal the body, but the mind of the young man wasn't responding to Father Armando's ministrations. Father Armando, who was Dom Armando back then, spent many evenings in conversation with the young man. When the visitor was healed enough, he began to spend time with Dom Berto during the day. At first, the young man was given small tasks to do, but before long the visitor was working all day in the field next to Dom Berto. Eventually, he found his path, and it was time for him to leave. Because of the visitor's hard work, clearing a space on the rocky mountainside, Dom Berto was left with a wonderful garden, which he still tends to."

Hector was looking a little puzzled as to the relevancy of the story, but I thought I understood. "Ask him," I said, "if the man was Carlos."

Hector turned to Dom Berto and spoke to him briefly, and then stood and listened while Dom Berto finished his tale. I heard the name Carlos mentioned more than once, so I wasn't surprised when Hector finished the story.

"It was Ranger," Hector said. "When he was here the first time, he helped Dom Berto build the garden. The garden is now used to grow many herbs that are used as medicine, and sold to townspeople in Merida for their healing properties. The garden is also is in bloom with many beautiful wildflowers and, daily, Dom Berto gives thanks for the opportunity he had to help the young man and for the legacy the young man left him. He is happy he is here to see this day happen, and he has brought you a gift that would not have been possible to give, if it had not been for the troubled young visitor they once had."

At the end of his speech Hector and I looked up to see Dom Berto lift a small, but beautiful, bouquet from the basket. He moved from the doorway and came to stand in front of me. I reached to take the bouquet from him but he waved a finger at me and turned to say something to Hector.

"He wants to explain the significance of the bouquet," Hector said. Dom Berto pinched a tiny bloom from the bottom of a long slender stalk and crushed it between his fingers. He held it under my nose and turned to Hector to begin his explanation.

I breathed in a familiar fragrance from the tiny flower as Hector said, "It's lavender, to symbolize the love and devotion you and Carlos have for one another, and next to that is mint, which is meant to symbolize your virtue." Hector was silent for a moment, and then he said, "I guess Dom Ignacio didn't tell Dom Berto about our marriage, Chica." I looked up into Hector's laughing eyes.

Dom Berto looked from me to Hector as if doubting the veracity of Hector's translation, then he continued with his explanation. When he finished, Hector said, "The flowers are wildflowers which border the herb garden, and the greenery in the bouquet symbolizes fertility, as he prays your union will be blessed with many children." I blushed at Hector's last words and looked to see if he was laughing again, but I saw only a look of affection on his face, as if maybe it was his wish for us, too. Dom Berto handed me the bouquet, but before I could even voice my thanks he was out the door and gone.

"Wow," I said. "That was very nice of him. Look at me Hector. I'm really a bride!"

You are," he agreed. He looked at me, appraisingly. "You have something old, that's your skirt. And something new, now that Dom Berto gave you the beautiful bouquet. Several things borrowed, but do you have anything blue?"

"My eyes," I suggested.

"Hmm," Hector said. "Maybe we can do better than that. Let's see." As we looked around, I felt a little sad that we would be unable to complete the rhyme, because nothing blue was forthcoming. Hector continued searching the small guesthouse, and I sat on the edge of the sofa, trying not to wrinkle my bridal attire. I still was in shock at the idea I was getting married that day. My shock was nothing compared to the shock my family would have. I hadn't even told my mother things were over with Joe.

My divorce from Dickie had been a nine day wonder in the Burg. My marriage and its failure had been at the forefront of every conversation in the Burg for days. My marriage to Ranger would also be a major topic of discussion. There would be those who claimed it was a rebound after Joe had dumped me. His mother would start that rumor. Others would say I'd blindsided Joe and had been cheating on him with Ranger. Grandma Bella would start that rumor. Through it all, my mother would iron and tipple. The crease in my father's pants would be as straight as the line my mother couldn't walk.

And Joe. I'd told him I wasn't breaking up with him in order to run to Ranger, and that had been true a little more than twenty-four hours ago. The difference a day could make. It was all inconsequential. I knew I was on the right path, even if I had no idea where it was leading. Ranger and I would be together, and now that I had said yes to him, I couldn't fathom a life without him.

"I've got it, Bonita," Hector said, coming to stand in front of me. He put his hand in his pocket, pulled it out and extended his open hand to me. There was a bullet lying in his palm, and it had a small blue tip.

I didn't take it from him. "I can't carry a bullet on my wedding day," I told him.

"Sure you can, Chica," he said. "Ranger will be carrying bullets and a gun, and probably a knife."

"How much danger are we in?" I asked Hector. It didn't seem like anyone was taking the threat of the bounty on Ranger, and possibly me, too seriously.

"Father Armando has gathered information from a number of sources in Merida," Hector told me. "There was no news of our arrival, according to Reina, so it seems we have entered the country undetected by Montenegro and his men. We need to make our way down the mountain in one night, your wedding night, and that shouldn't be too hard. It will be a much faster trip down the mountain than it was up. Tank is a little worried about Ranger's endurance, but he shouldn't be. After Ranger sees you as his bride, he won't want to waste any time getting you to himself."

"Oh," was all I could think of to say. I hadn't given any thought to anything but the wedding. It never occurred to me that we would be delaying our consummation, but a wedding night spent with Tank and Hector was bound to be G-rated. Dang.

The little goose-bumpy feeling was back. I had been so rushed since Ranger's proposal I hadn't given much thought to anything other than the immediacy of his request. I wondered about our safety.

"If we get home safe," I began.

"When we get home safe, Chica," Hector replied.

"When we get home safe," I said, "what's to prevent Montenegro from coming after Ranger in Trenton?"

"The DEA for one," Hector said. "They lost an agent who was dirty, and that won't go unnoticed. Montenegro is not the man his uncle is. Jolie de Franco has dual citizenship, and until his arrest he was able to move freely between the countries, and he still has support in Trenton. Members of his family who were loyal to him won't be loyal to Montenegro. They will go after him if he tries to enter the United States. It may be why he wants Ranger. If he kills the man he knows killed his grandfather, maybe he can appease those angry with him for turning on his uncle. But this is not important now, Chica. What is important is you are going to marry the boss, soon. He wouldn't allow this small delay in our departure if he wasn't absolutely convinced it was safe to do so. Now put the bullet in your pocket, Bonita. You've got a wedding to go to."

He handed me the bullet, and I slipped it into the pocket of my skort.

I'm going to leave you here for just a moment," Hector said. I want to make sure everything is lined up for our departure after your wedding."

"Okay," I said turning as he walked out the door. I took one last look around the guesthouse to make sure I had everything I needed stuffed in my duffel bag. I knew when we left, there had to be no trace of our stay. If Montenegro's men did come to the monastery, it was imperative there was nothing unusual to be found. The brothers could, maybe, talk their way out of a random piece of male clothing, but a tube of mascara, or a bra would be harder to explain.

I looked around the guest house and then sat, again, on the edge of the small sofa. It was the last time I was going to be alone for awhile, and I used the time to compose my thoughts. I was getting ready to marry Ranger. I had no second thoughts about that, mainly because I'd barely had first thoughts about it. I knew it was the right thing for us, just as I knew the monastery was the right place for us to become husband and wife. It was the place where Ranger would leave his past and step, along with me, toward his future.

I offered a small prayer for the accurateness of Armando's information and for the safety of our trip down the mountain. I also asked for a small window of opportunity, for Ranger and me to be alone together after the wedding. I still felt the skittering of electricity, but it wasn't fear. It was my destiny waiting for me in the small chapel down the hill.

The door opened and Hector stepped in dressed in typical RangeMan black. He held out his hand to me. "It's time." I raised the bouquet and inhaled deeply. The scent of lavender and mint intermingled. I smiled. I was happy and calm as I walked with Hector toward the chapel.

**TBC…**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: As promised, here is the second posting today. After this chapter we will post again on Monday, December 26. Cathy and I wish you all the blessings that Christmas can bring while spending time with the ones you love; family, friends and lovers. And if during the holidays you find yourself being naughty, then at the very least, be very, very good at it!**

**Lori**

*****.***.*****

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Seventeen: The Price of Love and Commitment**

**Ranger's POV**

I stood at the altar of the chapel for the second time that day. This time, however, I was not wearing my postulant's robe. It felt good to be back in my own clothes that Stephanie had thought to bring me from Trenton. It was almost seven. Armando was lighting the last of the one million candles he and Dom Ignacio had placed around the room to give the old chapel some atmosphere and light for the ceremony. I heard the door open, and Tank entered and hustled down the aisle.

"You're late." I growled.

"Sorry. I couldn't find my damn belt," he whispered, slightly irritated. "Who the hell steals a belt in a monastery? It's not like any of these guys wear pants."

"I'll buy you a new belt. I'll buy you fifty new belts." I was nervous, and my voice was harsher than necessary. I knew I was taking it out on him, but Tank's a big boy. He could take it.

"Hey! Don't get your panties in a wad, man. Relax. I'm here, aren't I? And I don't want a new belt. I just got that one broken in the way I like."

Our conversation came to a halt as the door to the chapel opened, once again, and Stephanie stepped through the door. She looked around to get her bearings and then stepped to the head of the aisle with Hector at her side. She entered the glow of soft light from the candles, and she shone like an angel. She was radiant. She took my breath away, and I realized how mistaken I was earlier. I was damn glad she wasn't wearing a paper bag.

Tank elbowed me in the arm. "Keep the belt, you lucky bastard. It looks a hell of a lot better on her."

Tank's words were spoken almost reverently. I guess I wasn't the only one moved by her appearance.

Hector took her arm and walked her down the short aisle. She was carrying a bouquet. It struck me that I had never thought of Stephanie as a hearts and flowers kind of girl, but as she approached, her appearance and demeanor were soft and feminine, and she was very much the blushing bride. She was beautiful. I made a mental note to send her flowers every day. When she was within my reach, I took her hand. I kissed the back of it and tucked it in close to my side. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, and I couldn't stop smiling. And I was very sure it wasn't the Midol this time.

Armando cleared his throat to get our attention. We both turned to him. He smiled and nodded, then started the ceremony.

"Stephanie, Carlos has asked that this wedding ceremony be comprised of a mixture of traditional and somewhat less traditional elements. He claims that a combination of the two, both suits and mirrors your relationship. Knowing Carlos the way I do, and after hearing the story of your journey, I must say that I heartily agree. We will begin with the traditional."

Armando opened his bible and read a series of passages from the Old and New Testaments. When he finished, he closed the bible and asked us to recite our marriage vows.

He gave the words to Stephanie and she repeated them. Her words were strong, and her eyes glistened and held mine as she spoke. "I, Stephanie Michelle, take you, Ricardo Carlos, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

Armando turned to me and repeated the process.

I nearly stumbled as I felt the weight of the words; not as a burden, but as a solemn charge to the amazing woman standing before me. "I, Ricardo Carlos, take you, Stephanie Michelle, for my lawful wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

Armando continued. "Because of the unusual circumstances surrounding the haste this ceremony required, I understand that the traditional exchange of rings will be delayed until a future date and substituted now with something that Carlos would like to offer in its stead."

He nodded to me, and I turned to Tank. When he laid the piece of jewelry in my hand, there was an audible gasp from my bride. Her eyes were wide in surprise, and the tears fell unrestrained.

"Where did you get that?" Astonishment and wonder were clear in her voice, and she couldn't take her eyes off the silver bracelet. "That's my…my…I thought…I thought I'd lost it."

I unhinged the clasp and straightened the three delicate charms. She was still in shock and almost mechanically complied as I gently coaxed her arm to extend so that I could fasten it on her wrist. "After Tank took you from Stiva's house, I found the casket he had used to kidnap and transport you. This was inside."

I kissed her wrist and let go of her hand. She brought the bracelet closer to her face and ran her fingers over the links. "My Grandma Mazur gave this to me when I graduated from college." She stopped and looked at me. "You kept it…all this time?"

I nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I loved you, and that day I thought I had lost you. Then, fool that I was, I put you in that car with Tank and sent you back to Morelli. At the time, I thought it was all I would ever have of you. So I held on to it."

Stephanie bounded into my arms and kissed me. I held her tight, and I kissed her back; totally oblivious to the fact that we were still mid-ceremony. I heard a chuckle from Tank, and Armando cleared his throat for a second time. If I'd had a throat lozenge in my pocket I would have gladly given it to him for another two minutes without interruption. It was Stephanie who actually came to her senses before me, and she stepped back with a bright, but beautiful blush of embarrassment on her face.

"Shall we continue?" Armando was working hard to keep this solemn and proper, but there was a trace of amusement in his question, giving away the fact that he was obviously suppressing his own mirth, as well.

We both nodded.

"Stephanie and Carlos, the symbolism of the thirteen coins in this ceremony is that the groom recognizes his responsibility as a provider, and pledges his ability to support and care for his wife. Acceptance by the bride means taking that trust and confidence unconditionally with total dedication and prudence."

Armando pulled the velvet bag, given to me by my abuela, out of the pocket in his robe and opened it.

"As I count out the thirteen coins and place them in Carlos' hands, they also represent the values that you, as a couple, desire to share between yourselves: love, harmony, cooperation, commitment, peace, happiness, trust, respect, caring, wisdom, joy, wholeness and nurturing. May these coins be a symbol of your mutual love, fidelity and trust.

Armando nodded to me, and I turned to face Stephanie. "Mi amor, I give you these thirteen coins as a symbol of my unquestionable trust and confidence I place in you as my beloved wife. As we unite our lives today, I share all material responsibility with you."

Armando turned to Stephanie. "Stephanie, do you accept these coins and give assurance of your unconditional love and dedication in looking out for Carlos, his life, and his possessions? If so, say I do."

"I do," she responded.

"In exchanging these coins, you are essentially saying, 'What is mine is yours, and what is yours is mine.' I bless these coins knowing that they are also symbolic of the unlimited good the universe has in store for you as a loving couple. I accept this for Stephanie and Carlos, and so it is, Amen."

I placed the coins back in the bag and handed it to Stephanie; just as my abuelo and abuela had done more than fifty years ago. I remembered, once more, the words she had spoken in her kitchen._ "Take the bag, Carlos. Protect it. One day it will be the most valuable thing you own."_

Armando asked us to kneel. He placed his hands on our heads and spoke. "Father in heaven, you ordained marriage for your children, and you gave us love. I present to you Stephanie and Carlos who come this day to be married. May the covenant of love they make be blessed with true devotion and spiritual commitment. We thank you for giving them the ability to keep the covenant they have made. When selfishness shows itself, grant generosity; when mistrust is a temptation, give moral strength; when there is misunderstanding, give patience and gentleness; if suffering becomes a part of their lives, give them a strong faith and an abiding love. For it is only because you first loved us, that we can love in return. In your name we pray, Amen."

Armando removed his hands and encouraged us to stand.

"Carlos, greet your new bride; for I now pronounce you husband and wife."

I took Stephanie in my arms and we kissed as husband and wife. We kissed long and passionately, until Tank gave me a friendly, but firm, punch in the arm.

"Plenty of time for that, later." He pointed at his watch.

_Shit_, we were on a schedule. I reluctantly let go of Stephanie, and she was immediately pulled into Hector's arms for congratulations and kisses. Tank ushered us to the back of the chapel where Dom Ignacio stood waiting. Hector still had a hold on Stephanie, and I needed to reclaim my wife, so I possessively pulled her into my arms. "Gentlemen, if you'll excuse us," I stated with a subtle hint of annoyance at Hector. "It's Venezuelan date night, and I have plans for my bride."

"Wait!" Stephanie yelled. She handed me her flowers then reached up and removed the pins that secured the veil to her head. "Hector," she said, handing him the veil. "Return this, and say ten Hail Marys as penance." She kissed him on the cheek. "You were the best Man of Honor a girl could ask for." She turned to Tank and kissed him on the cheek, too. "I'll give you your belt back later, Okay?"

Tank nodded and guided us out the door and into a waiting van.

"Where are we going?" Stephanie looked around the car, and I could tell she had taken notice of the luggage. "This is my stuff."

"I told you, Babe, we were scheduled to leave at seven thirty."

"But what about Tank and Hector?" She questioned, as the car motored off.

We're leaving the monastery in two separate groups. It will be safer that way. Not as conspicuous. Dom Ignacio is going to drive you and me part of the way down the mountain to the small cave we stayed in on our way up. Tank and Hector will follow on foot, with Armando as their guide. This will give them a chance to scout out the area for any indication that Montenegro is near, and it will give us some time alone. They should catch up with us in a few hours."

Stephanie was still clutching the velvet bag. She opened it and poured a few of the coins into her hand. "This was a beautiful part of the ceremony. I've never seen anything like this. Where did you get them?"

"They were my abuela's. She received them at her wedding."

A look of understanding lit up her face. "This is what you had Tank bring from the safe."

"And your bracelet." I thought about admitting to Stephanie the presence of the third item in the box, but decided against it. That part of my life was behind me now. We had discussed Yessi, and she was at rest.

She leaned up and kissed me. "Thank you for that, too. You never cease to amaze me."

"That's the plan, Babe; to keep you interested so you won't wander."

"Somehow, I don't ever see that as being a problem." She replaced the coins and tucked the bag into her duffel. "I don't think life for us will ever be predictable."

"We are about to hit the main road, my friends." Dom Ignacio's voice floated back from the driver's seat. "Perhaps you should become less visible."

"Not a problem." I grabbed Stephanie around the waist and lowered her to a prone position on the roomy back seat, covering her body with mine. She slapped my hand as it made its way up her thigh and under her very short skort.

"We can't do that here!" She whispered emphatically. "There's a priest in the front seat for God's sake! Besides isn't this hurting your shoulder?"

"I'm fine. I'm putting all the pressure on my right shoulder, and my left hand is still strong enough to do this." I repeated my attempts, and she stopped them cold with a second slap. I sighed heavily and gave up. "You have no idea what you're missing, Babe. Ignacio's been very considerate by turning up the volume on the radio to give us privacy. And he's not a priest. He's a dom."

"Close enough." She was struggling to straighten her skirt and whisper at the same time. "Priest, brother, dom…" she grunted as the weight of my body made it difficult for her to move, "they're all a lot closer to God than me. And He listens to them better. Lulu would say you're messing with my JuJu."

"Babe, not so long ago, Lula would have taken fifty bucks for doing this."

"Are you offering me fifty bucks?"

"Would it change your mind?"

"No. It's another one of my rules. No public sex…even for money!"

"Are there going to be a lot of these...rules?"

"I don't know. I think your experience is more extensive than mine. You probably know about things I've never even heard of." Stephanie released some of her uptight posture and relaxed a little. I slid off toward the back of the seat and pulled her into a more publicly appropriate embrace. By the time we'd settled into our new position, she was feeling playful. "You know, now that you have a wife, you won't need to pay for it anymore."

"I've never paid for it." I firmly stated.

"Really!" She seemed honestly surprised. "I thought all you rugged Special Forces types wandered out of the desert or the jungle, or wherever it was that you were doing your very secret business, and headed straight for the nearest brothel."

"Okay," I admitted. "Maybe once. In Thailand. It was a long time ago, and I was very young and stupid."

"Was she worth it?"

I had a strong feeling this was another one of those 'no win' conversations. Continuing could only lead to trouble. I needed to quickly change the course of this dangerous exchange. "I've only had one woman that was worth it, and I married her."

"So Rachel was that good?" She teasingly ran a finger down my chest.

I took one of my own fingers and rubbed it gently across her lips. "Babe, Rachel doesn't even make the list of my top five encounters."

"Top five?" She looked worried. "You rank them? Who's in your top five?"

"You are."

"Me? Where do I fall on that list?"

"You are number five…and number four…and number three, two and…one."

"We were only together one night."

"Do you happen to remember how many times we were 'together' that one night?"

"Umm…five?"

"Four."

"Then how do I qualify for five places?"

"In San Cristobal; you, me, that thong, and those amazing red shoes. That's my number five."

"You were lying on wad of towels that were stemming the blood flow from a bullet wound!"

"That's not how I remember it. I remember lying naked in a big bed with a beautiful and bold woman taking total control in the bedroom." With each sentence, my voice deepened, my words became dangerously lust filled, and my mouth inched closer to hers until I was speaking against her lips. "I remember her mouth so close; her breath so warm, it nearly drove me insane with desire."

Stephanie pulled away slightly and asked, "But we didn't _do it_. I don't see how that could be your number five?"

"Minor technicality, Babe. The act was implied. You were _that_ good." I couldn't hold back any longer. I pulled her closer and kissed her until taking in more air became an absolute necessity. We continued to tease and play with each other in our little private world, until the van slowed and came to a stop.

Dom Ignacio turned down the radio which had effectively shielded him from our romantic banter, and called back to us. "I believe we have not been followed, and we are in a pretty remote place between villages. Can you find your way from here?"

We stepped out of the van, and I took a moment to get my bearings. I pointed at a small grouping of trees. "Is that south?"

Dom Ignacio nodded.

"I know where we are." I leaned into the van and grabbed our bags.

Dom Ignacio opened the back gate and retrieved one more that he handed to me. It was heavier than my own, and mine contained weapons. "This is just a little something the Brothers and I put together for you. Inside you will find everything you need for a proper wedding supper. When you leave the cave, leave all of it behind. Armando will retrieve it and return it to the monastery.

I nodded my thanks, but Stephanie stepped up and gave him a brief, respectful hug. "Thank you so much for everything, Dom Ignacio. Despite the circumstances we're facing, you helped make this a wonderful day for us."

"It was my pleasure, Mrs. Manoso. Enjoy your meal, and have a safe journey home. God bless you both."

He got back into the van and drove off, leaving us to find our way. It took less than twenty minutes to make it to our stopping point, and as far as I could tell, Ignacio had been right. We hadn't been followed. The cave hadn't changed much since we'd been here last, but _we_ certainly had, in one very important way. Coming up this mountain, we had been evading de Franco as two people battling our personal demons and fighting our undeniable feelings for each other. Now, coming down the mountain, we were evading Montenegro as husband and wife. Unified not only by purpose, but by mutual consent that we belonged to each other; our demons put to rest.

I set the bags down and turned to Stephanie. I reached for her and could tell by the way we fell into one another that we both felt the same thing; relief that after this long, crazy day, we were finally alone again.

"Are you hungry?" She asked.

"Very." I replied.

She kissed my neck and worked her way to my chin. "For food?"

"That, too." I claimed her lips and pulled her close enough to make it obvious that my hunger needs extended well beyond those of my stomach.

She was a bit breathless, but managed to whisper out, "How long did you say it would be before Tank and Hector got here?"

I broke away just enough to glimpse at my watch. "Two hours and twenty-three minutes."

"Exactly?"

"Give or take thirty seconds." I grinned.

"Why don't we start with dinner, then." I groaned as she broke away and reached for the bag from Dom Ignacio. "It would be a shame to let this spoil."

The bag not only contained a wonderful array of foods, but also wine, dishes, silverware, glasses, candles, and a couple of blankets.

We made short work of the meal, and Stephanie leaned back on her hands and stared at the stars. "This would be quite a story to tell our children someday wouldn't it? How we spread out a blanket and enjoyed our wedding supper, picnic style, on the side of a mountain in the Andes, all the while dodging hit men who want to make a buck by turning us over to a Venezuelan drug lord." There was definitely a note of humor in her voice.

I collected the dishes and began putting them, and the leftover food, back in the bag. Her mention of children had me curious. "Do you want children, Babe?" I asked as benignly as possible, not wanting to concern her by sounding committed one way or the other.

She continued to stare at the sky. "I…I don't know. I honestly don't know. It's just...something Dom Berto said..." She refocused and helped me pack up the last of the dishes. "We've been married all of two hours. Do we need to decide right now?"

I stood up and extended my hand. I pulled her from the ground, wrapped her in my arms, and began nibbling on her neck. Mmmmmm, dessert. "No, querida. Not now. But I do believe that some serious practicing is in order, so that we're ready if we choose to add to our little family."

"I'm on board with that," she said with a lazy smile.

"Why don't we see if we can find that hot spring? You won't have to bathe alone this time, I promise."

Stephanie moaned in agreement. I grabbed a glass and the bottle of wine, and Stephanie picked up the two blankets and briefly glanced over at our duffel bags. "Should I bring my new little gun?"

I grinned. "I've got mine...I'm pretty sure it's big enough."

"You think so? I'm a little concerned...after the Midol...and...well…you _have_ been wearing a dress for the last few days."

I couldn't help but grin even wider at her clever retort. "When we get to the spring, you can judge for yourself. Just let me know if you don't think my gun will do the job by itself. We can always talk about implementing some of those ideas from all the extensive experience you seem to think I've had."

"I've seen your gun. And if you're telling me that nothing's changed, then I'm sure it will be more than sufficient."

I grabbed her hand and led her down the path to the spring. The last time we were here, it had been during the day, and the sun had been warm. Now, in the coolness of the night, the light from the nearly full moon illuminated a steamy paradise.

I set the wine glass and bottle on a flat rock near the spring. I removed my weapon and laid it there as well. Stephanie found a dry spot for the blankets, slipped off her shoes, and stepped to the edge of the water. "This looks wonderful." She turned around to face me, and she was already unbuckling the belt around her waist. "Get in with me." Her voice was husky and beckoning me to follow, but I froze as she continued to undress. She started at the top and slowly unfastened each button on her shirt. Her eyes never left mine when she dropped it off her shoulders and guided it down to rest on a large rock. She reached behind her back and unzipped her skirt, then shimmied it down her legs to remove it. As I watched, mesmerized, I realized I had seen her do this before, in San Cristobal. Except this time, the act was not a hurried necessity to create a ruse for the mission. This time it was for me. The purpose of this strip-tease was seduction. It was designed to entice me to touch her; to make love to her; to consummate our marriage.

She became impatient. I still had failed to move, so she drew close and began unbuttoning my shirt for me. She kissed her way down my chest until she could go no further. I stopped her hands and pulled her to me in an all-consuming kiss. Having been kick-started into joining her little party, I eagerly removed the rest of her clothes and mine, then lifted her into my arms and walked into the water.

Waist deep into the warm pool, the buoyancy allowed freedom of movement, and our passion deepened when her slick body repeatedly slid up and down against mine. It wasn't a large spring, and within a matter of moments we had haphazardly negotiated our way around the perimeter to the other side. There I discovered an underwater ledge. I sat and pulled Stephanie in to straddle my lap, only to find her breasts irresistibly within reach of my mouth. Our hands were no longer necessary to anchor ourselves to one another, and, once again, our foreplay intensified as we found new uses for them. The magnitude of desire between us was intoxicating. I couldn't resist the primal need to lift her hips and slid inside her body.

"Oh god, Ranger, you feel so good," Stephanie moaned, as she rocked into me by pushing off the bottom of the spring with her feet, and coming back. Each time she would drop down, I pulled her in tight to go deeper. We did this over and over again, building the tension and increasing the friction in all the right places.

"Todo está bien cuando estoy dentro de ti, mi amor. Estoy en casa aquí." _("Everything is right when I'm inside of you, my love. I am home.")_ I was not spewing random and generic Spanish love thoughts, that in the past, I had weightlessly uttered for no other reason than to enhance and heighten the sexual experience. She was drawing something new from me. My words were now truth. They held meaning. They were an outward expression of an undeniable precept coming from somewhere deep inside me. A place no one had ever reached before. They were spawned by a fervor to provide for her, to protect her, to cherish her. They were driven by a desire to show her she was profoundly loved.

Our coupling reached a feverish pitch, neither of us willing to be controlled or tamed. In a desperate effort to go even deeper, Stephanie arched back, her breasts stretched tight, her hair floating on the surface of the warm steamy water. I pulled her in once, twice more, and the sensations peaked beyond return. We climaxed together, our screams echoing off the rock walls surrounding the pool. I gathered her to me, and Stephanie collapsed against my chest, but only for a moment. Undaunted by near exhaustion, she placed open mouth kisses along my neck and worked her way to my lips. Her tongue sought mine, and she initiated a sensual dance inside my mouth, while below she continued to tease me with tight pelvic contractions against my unrelenting hard on that was still buried inside her.

"I can still feel you in there," she expressed, in a satisfied moan. "It's nice. Don't leave." Her voice was sultry and seductive.

"I have neither the inclination nor the energy, at the moment, to withdraw, mi carina. In fact, I'm hoping that if I hang in there long enough, I'll get treated to a repeat performance."

I could see by the look on her face, and I could feel by the even tighter squeezes she was producing, that she took my words as a challenge. "I think I can make that happen sooner rather than later," she purred.

The rocking started out slowly this time, and we spent a few minutes enjoying each other and listening to the water lap at our skin. We kissed and nipped, and we moaned at particularly stimulating maneuvers. The sex was languid and honest. We relearned each other's bodies and gaged each other's responses to touches. We were so intent on the process that when Stephanie climaxed the second time, I watched in awe, entirely pleased that I had drawn the completion from her. I followed moments later at her encouragement to give in.

We were breathless and spent.

"Mr. Manoso, after careful consideration and some initial testing, I have found your gun to be quite...ample for the job. However, I must warn you that more extensive research must be done to verify it's acceptable usefulnness in all situations."

"What kind of 'situations' did you have in mind, Mrs. Manoso?"

"Weelll," she slowly drawled, while she contemplated her answer. "This was wonderful, and hot...and very satisfying, but I think it would be prudent to explore the accuracy and range of your...gun...in a more traditional setting. Maybe the bedroom, where the research will allow me to judge your creativity and endurance with your weapon. Or perhaps a more precarious setting like your office, where you could exhibit proof of your stealth and speed."

"Careful, wife. That second one sounds dangerousy close to breaking one of your rules."

"Not if the door is locked."

"It sounds as if you've put a lot of thought into this."

"I've had my fantasies."

"If you share them with me, I guarantee I can make them all happen."

She got a devilish smile on her face. "How about I share one with you right now?" She leaned into my ear and whispered the most amazing details.

"I can do that."

Sometime later, I found the energy to carry Stephanie back to the side of the pool where we had lain our things. I lifted us out of the water and quickly bundled her in one of the blankets. I laid the other on the ground and grabbed the wine glass and wine before we settled on it. Steph opened her blanket and invited me in. I pulled her into my lap, her back against my chest and we enjoyed the warmth our bodies generated in our cocoon.

Thinking back on our incredible lovemaking, a thought occured to me. "I understand and can tell you now, Babe, why no one else could ever be on my list."

She sipped some of the wine and handed me the glass with a curious look. "Why?"

"Because, amada, physical intimacy and emotional intimacy were always two separate experiences for me. With you they are one. When I'm with you, I can't have one without the other. That is something I never realized until now. When we made love the first time, I felt it then. I knew it was different, but I didn't know why."

"I know what you mean. I felt it, too." Stephanie sighed. It sounded like a good sigh; one reflecting complete satisfaction. "So, no regrets tomorrow?" Her words were sleepy, and I could feel her body relaxing into mine.

"No regrets, Babe. Ever."

**TBC…**


	18. Chapter 18

***.***.***

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Eighteen : A Grenade In The Hand Is Worth Two In The Ambush**

**Stephanie's POV**

I awoke to Ranger's face leaning over me. The moonlight gave ample illumination to see he was up and dressed and I was still wrapped in a blanket, naked. I was sleep-deprived and sexually satiated and the combination had been enough to render me unconscious. I didn't know how long I'd been asleep, but I must have been deeply asleep not to realize Ranger had left my side.

"Time to get up, Babe," he said. "There's movement in the underbrush. We're having company." He didn't seem particularly worried, but my heart skipped a beat.

"What kind of company?" I asked. "Giant Rex company or Montenegro company?"

"Neither. I imagine Giant Rex headed for higher ground about the time of your first orgasm. We had some whitecaps on the waves we were making." He took time to flash me a grin. "If Montenegro was coming he wouldn't take pains to make so much noise. It's someone who is making sure we hear him. My guess is Tank. I'll go meet him. You get dressed."

I found my clothes and pulled them on as quickly as I could. The night air was cool even though I was completely dry. Tucking the long shirttail in was impossible, so I left it hanging loose and carried Tank's belt in my hands. I scooped up the blankets and made my way in the direction of low voices and their undecipherable murmur. Turning back, I took one last look at the hot springs committing it to memory before I stepped through the brush. Ranger and Tank stood just on the other side of the bushes. They were deep in conversation, but stopped as I walked toward them.

I held the belt out to Tank and said, "Thanks, Tank. It was my something borrowed."

"No problem." He slipped the belt through the loops and cinched it tight. His pants were standard RangeMan issue and there wasn't a merry man in the bunch, including Tank, who actually needed a belt to hold their cargos up.

"Did I oversleep and make us late getting back to the cave?" I asked Ranger, as we walked the short distance back.

"No. Tank came to get us because there is some new Intel. Hector and Father Armando are back at the cave. Father Armando was still on the phone trying to make sure he had all the details when Tank came to get us. "

"Father Armando is at the cave?" I asked. I hadn't planned on seeing the priest again so soon after our marriage. I was a little uncomfortable with the thought, priest or not, he knew what we'd been doing. It didn't bother me to see Tank or Hector. They thought they knew what Ranger and I had been doing for years. This was nothing new to them. I inadvertently slowed my steps.

Ranger, ESP in full working mode, leaned down and whispered in my ear. "There is nothing be embarrassed about. Not only is our love freely and mutually given, we're married. It's your duty, now."

"D-duty!" I sputtered. "Well, it's your duty, too."

"I look forward to the call of duty, Babe." I got the full on two-hundred watt smile which made the moonlight glow dim in comparison. I walked faster and we caught up with Tank. As we rounded the corner I saw Hector and Father Armando deep in conversation at the mouth of the cave.

"Let's go inside," Ranger said. "where we're out of view." He kept his arm around me as we went into the small cave and sat on the floor. Hector leaned a mag light against our duffels and we all sat in a circle around the light. It was a serious situation and I knew it, but it was so reminiscent of a campfire scene I thought someone would break out singing "Kumbaya."

When Father Armando started speaking, his soft tones had everyone's attention. "Hector, Tank and I left the monastery immediately after you and Stephanie left, Carlos. My job was to guide them to this spot and then return to the monastery, as we'd discussed. As we arrived here I received a call from Reina, and she was panicked." He pulled a sat phone from the pocket of his robe, and glanced briefly at the screen.

"Her news is not good, and that's alarming, because I think it's trustworthy. It seems Montenegro knows of your presence at the monastery with a surety, Carlos. A man in her employ recognized you the day we met Reina at her place. She was suspicious of the man and thought he may have turned in your location to Montengro, but the news is somewhat worse than that. Her employee, Rueben, is also in the employ of Montenegro, and they have devised a plan to remove you from the monastery. They are on their way up the mountain. Reina said Montenegro's men have been watching the movement at the monastery. Your time in the chapel late at night has been noticed and they plan to ambush you there."

"How did she come by this information?" Ranger asked.

"I'm uncertain of her methods, but Reina overheard a phone conversation. They are planning on being at the chapel before dawn and they hope to intercept you there. If not, they will enter the monastery proper. He has two men with him and their plan is to get you and take you back to the family compound at Tabay. That means they could be ascending the mountain right now. They will probably travel by vehicle to Tabay and then make their way on foot to the chapel. It's an easy ascent for someone experienced with the terrain. "

"Where's Tabay?" Tank asked.

"Tabay is the village Montenegro's grandfather lived in," Armando continued. "It's about halfway up the mountain from Merida, and an easy two hour's hike from the monastery. His mother, Magda, still has a large home there. He knows this mountain very well as he spent time here as a child. The original plan, of going down the mountain the same way you and Stephanie came up, will no longer work, Carlos."

There was silence for a moment in the cave. The light bouncing off the wall was ample for me to read expressions on the faces of everyone present. Father Armando was sitting quietly. Tank, Hector and Ranger were engaging in some form of non-verbal communication, and I had a good idea what they were thinking. They wanted to 'Rambo-up' and head down the mountain to meet Montenegro head on. I knew Ranger wouldn't put me in jeopardy so they would abandon the plan without ever verbalizing it.

I decided to help. "What if I went back to the monastery with Father Armando?" I asked. "I could be safe there and the three of you could capture Montenegro." Capture was a word I used for Father Armando's sake, because I didn't think any one of the three of them had a bring'em back alive mentality.

Father Armando seemed pleased with the idea. "I'm sure Stephanie and I could make it back to the monastery safely. I have the sat phone. Dom Ignacio could meet us where he dropped you off earlier, Carlos. We could be safely inside the monastery very soon. You and your men would be able to intercept Montenegro and his men. It is a good solution."

"No, it's not," Ranger said. His eyes were on me and I knew I'd never again wonder what my place in his life was. It was at his side and his next words made that clear. "We will all go up the mountain to the point where Dom Ignacio dropped us off. At that point we will borrow the monastery van. We'll go back down the mountain to where Hector has a car hidden for us and then we'll make our way to El Vigia. We have a plane waiting to get us out of the country. We'll use your phone to alert the pilot of our anticipated arrival time." Hector and Tank remained silent. There was no emotion on their faces to let me know what they were thinking.

"But, Ranger," I said. "You'll be running away. That's letting Montenegro win."

"No, it's not," he said. "I want you with me. I don't want you hiding in the monastery where you'd probably be safe. I want you with me, where I know you'll be safe. We will leave as soon as possible. That way the monastery remains intact. When Montenegro arrives at the chapel and finds no evidence of me, he may feel compelled to search the monastery and it's grounds. By the time he realizes we're gone, we'll be in the air. When we get to Trenton we will sort this all out with the DEA and let them finish the job. It is, after all, their job. Our involvement is technically over, and it's time to move on."

"But," I started. Hector unfolded his legs and moved over to me. His arm went around my shoulders and he leaned in close to hug me.

"Chica, the boss is right. This isn't our fight. Don't feel you are responsible for his decision. It is the right decision, for you and for the doms. The DEA should be held accountable. It was their bent agent who caused this trouble to start with." Ranger was watching the interaction between Hector and me with something between incredulity and amusement on his face.

Tank stood and, immediately, the cave became smaller. "Let's get going. I don't like sitting in here. We need to get moving, but we need to be dressed for the occasion." His eyes traveled over me. My wedding attire was looking bedraggled and I knew I had to change footwear at least. The small heeled sandals I'd worn for the wedding should be replaced by my cross-trainers.

"Okay, I'll change, but not until the cave empties out. You'll all have to wait outside." I said. I reached out and moved the mag light to open my duffel."

"You probably should lose the white shirt," Tank agreed. "But that's not what I meant." He squatted and duck-walked to the back of the cave, where the ceiling lowered. I noticed, for the first time, the wooden crate with the armaments from Reina. He lifted the top off and began passing out munitions. Ranger already had a gun but he took another and Hector and Tank crowded around, shining the mag light into the box.

Tank turned to Father Armando. "Padre, are you good to go? I hear you used to be a soldier, do you have your weapon?"

Father Armando smiled and pulled rosary beads out of the pocket of his robe. "I have all the weaponry I need," he said.

Ranger came to my side and gave me a quick kiss. "Five minutes, Babe. We'll take this box to the springs and drown it. I don't want to leave anything for Montenegro to use. Dress in dark colors and make sure you have your gun. I know it's loaded, because Hector loaded it for you. Leave anything you think you can. If Montenegro comes upon this cave it will be a good distraction for him to think we are still making our way down the mountain. It may keep him from entering the monastery ground, and that would be good for my friends there."

Ranger turned and motioned to Tank to bring the box forward. "Tank and I will take the guns to the springs. Hector, you and Father Armando stand guard outside while Stephanie gets changed." He reached up and massaged his shoulder and I remembered, again, his wound. My husband was amazing. He was wounded and we'd come here to save him, but there was no question of who was in charge. I would have plenty of time to think about it later, but I was fascinated with Tank and his ability to slip from the role of leader to follower with such ease. He was a special man, and Hector was a special man, willing to go the distance for me. I was a lucky woman.

I hurried and dressed. I left my white sandals and Hector's shirt behind, opting for a black t-shirt and black cross-trainers. I looked down at the black t-shirt, black skort and black shoes and realized I was dressed in RangeMan uniform. I hurriedly went through my duffel and pulled out the one thing it was imperative to take. The pockets of my skort were shallow and held only the blue-tipped bullet I'd carried at our wedding, but I had another place to store my treasure.

I stepped from the cave and saw Hector and Father Armando standing close to the entrance of the cave. Hector turned and asked, "You have your gun, Chica?"

"Yes," I said. I have my gun and it's loaded. I reached into my pocket and pulled the blue-tipped bullet out. "And I have my lucky bullet." He smiled at me as I placed it back in my pocket. I'd been on edge most of the day, and now was no exception. Hector sensed my unease.

"It will be okay, Bonita. We will beat the bad guys and get away safely, but we have to be protected. We can't take any chances. We prepare for the worst and plan for the best."

Ranger and Tank came into view moving quickly and quietly. I knew Ranger had the ability to move with feline stealth, but to see Tank traversing the short distance between us with equal grace and silence was amazing. Ranger came and leaned in to kiss me. I knew from the look in his eyes he was, like me, a little sad to be leaving, although we knew it was the only option.

Ranger turned to Father Armando. "Did you get hold of Dom Ignacio?"

"Yes," Father Armando said. "He will be waiting at the same place he dropped you and Stephanie off earlier. You can take the van down the mountain and we will get it at a later date. The two of us will make our way back up the mountain to the monastery."

"Armando, you need to be careful," Ranger said. "You'll be walking the exact path we think Montenegro will be taking. Tank told me you wouldn't take a weapon. You need to rethink that. I know you carried a gun as a soldier." "So I did," Armando said. "It was my obligation at the time to do so. My obligation now is to depend on a higher power. God's will be done, Carlos. It is not for me to carry a gun. You and your men are still soldiers, and you must follow your own path. For you to have weapons is enough."

The conversation ended as we began to climb the mountain. I still felt the uneasy sense that something was about to happen, but I didn't share the feeling with anyone, because everyone else acted like business as usual. Father Armando led the way, with Ranger and me following close behind. Tank and Hector brought up the rear. The first cracking sound didn't even register in my mind as a gun-shot. I was on the ground with Ranger on top of me before I realized we were under fire. Several more gunshots came in rapid succession. I felt Ranger slide from atop me.

"Roll, Babe." Ranger's urgent command had me obeying without thinking. I rolled to my left following his lead until we were off the path. His arm reached out and pulled me through rough foliage until we were behind a small stand of trees. I reached around and pulled my gun from the back waistband of my skort. The silence came as suddenly as the gun-shots had. We stayed still waiting. Ranger's hand touched my arm. The moonlight gave enough illumination for me to look and see Ranger staring across the path we'd just left. I followed his line of vision. Up head about fifteen feet and on the opposite side of the path I could see Father Armando, crouched low in the underbrush.

Ranger leaned close and whispered into my ear. "They are above us and gathered tightly. We must have surprised them because the shots came from a fairly contained area. If they were planning an ambush they would have spread out before shooting."

"What are we going to do?" I whispered.

"You are going to stay here and I'm going deeper into the woods. I'll make my way up and around and come in from behind. Hector and Tank are already moving on the other side of the path. Keep your gun ready, but don't shoot unless one of them gets close. We don't want them to know where you are."

He was away from me in a matter of seconds. I could see him moving, low to the ground and silent. I tried. I tried hard. I'd promised Tank I would follow orders, but I couldn't help myself. Something inside me made me follow Ranger. I copied his moves and tried to keep sight of him in the darkness. It only took thirty seconds for me to realize I had no idea where he was, or which way it was back to the path. I was lost in the woods on the side of a mountain in Venezuela. I made my way forward, slowly. A hand clamped around my mouth and I was pulled against a body that was hard and unyielding, and familiar.

"Babe, this isn't the time for this. Stay here, stay down and stay still. Please." I nodded my head and his hand slid from my mouth. He leaned into to give me a quick kiss and made a motion to push me toward the ground. I saw just a tiny glint in the moonlight, but I knew. I knew I had distracted Ranger and someone was going to shoot him from behind. I didn't take time to speak or think. I flew forward into him with all my might and pushed him off balance.

**Tank's POV**

I saw the muzzle flash and heard the gun shot simultaneously. Close range. Then I heard the low moan. Someone was down, and from the position it was someone on our team. I made my way across the cleared path and into the woods, traveling by intuition more than sight. I came up short, to see Stephanie lying on Ranger. It was too dark to see details but I heard the low growl of Ranger's voice. "Get the bastard." Someone had been shot. Ranger was talking, but Stephanie wasn't talking or moving. I put that thought away and went to find Montenegro or whichever goon was ahead of me.

I quit moving and hit the ground at the sound of gunfire from the other side of the path. It was lower on the mountain by twenty yards. At least two weapons were identifiable by the sound. The first shots had been fired in rapid succession. That later shots were slower and had the particular reverberation of the Dessert Eagle I knew Hector to be carrying. There was a flash and a loud explosion and I almost laughed out loud. It was the hand grenade. Hector had been well dressed for the occasion, and I was no longer worried about anything other than the man on my side of the path.

I was still for moment, hunched low, making myself as small a target as possible. I listened but could hear nothing. The echoing crack of a gunshot, and the splintering of tree bark on my left, had me flat on the ground. It was a near miss. If Montenegro's crew had night vision equipment, we were in trouble, but I was betting they didn't. We'd surprised them on the path. I knew that from the randomness of the attack. The recent gunshot had probably been nothing more than a shot in the dark. I held my fire and moved down the slope. I had the advantage now, because I knew the shooter's position.

As I made my way forward the absence of gunfire made me hopeful Hector had been successful. I belly-crawled, making slow, but steady progress. The thin and rocky topsoil bit into my arms as I moved and I knew from the stinging I was bleeding. I was getting too old for this shit.

I estimated I was with in ten yards of the shooter's location, so I stopped again, to listen. I heard the distinct click of a magazine being loaded, and the sound was too close. I turned and fired in rapid succession at the sound. I fired blindly and waited for return fire. Seconds turned into minutes and I heard nothing, so I advanced slowly. Could I have hit the target shooting blindly toward a sound? Armando's words, "God's will be done," came back to me.

I stopped at the edge of a small clearing, really nothing more than an area of a missing tree. I saw a man slumped in an unnatural pose against a small boulder. I moved cautiously, prepared to fire at the slightest movement. As I got closer, I was able to see why the man wasn't moving. The moonlight was filtered by sparse tree-branches, but I could see part of his face was missing.

I moved closer still, but kept enough distance to keep blood and bone fragments from spattering me. I raised my gun and fired one more round into the face of the dead man. Insurance. Special Forces training had been long ago in my past, but it never went away. I ran forward and kicked the gun from his limp hand. Moving as quickly as I could, I reached down and pulled the crown shaped ring off of the middle finger of his left hand and turned to find the path. As I ran back up the mountainside, I shoved the ring into my pocket and allowed myself to wonder about the fate of Stephanie.

As I came upon them, I saw light. Hector was standing holding a mag light to illuminate the area. "Bonita's been shot," he said. "The padre is assessing." His expression was grim. "My body count is two," he continued . "Yours?"

"One," I said. "The bastard Montenegro. I took his ring." My eyes were focused on Father Armando. He was wielding a large knife that had come from his pocket. So much for not being armed. He slit the tattered remains of Stephanie's t-shirt from hem to neck and I realized she was moving her legs and moaning. Ranger was sitting next to her. His knees were drawn up and his head was resting on them. His hand was wrapped around Stephanie's wrist tightly holding the silver bracelet in place. His head was turned away, as if he couldn't bear to see her injuries. There was a large stain visible through the darkness of his t-shirt indicating his shoulder had been reinjured. He was motionless, and I thought in shock. I took a step toward him not knowing how to offer comfort, when I was feeling my own gut wrenching nausea at waiting for a report from Armando.

"The bullet did not penetrate, Carlos. I think she will make it."

Ranger's head came up. "How is that possible?" he asked moving quickly over to Stephanie's side. "The force of the impact sent her careening into me and knocked us both down. She threw herself into the line of fire, to protect me." His voice was raw with emotion. He crawled around and knelt at her head. He leaned and talked softly into her ear. "Babe, stay with me." It was as much a prayer as a plea, I thought. I looked at Armando who was using the knife to slice through Stephanie's bra. God's will be done.

Ranger remained at Steph's head whispering in her ear. Hector and I stood on either side. The mag light was steady in Hector's hand. We stared at Stephanie's exposed chest while Father Armando worked over her. He was paying rapt attention to her breathing and checked her pulse by placing two fingers on the artery behind her ear. I knew there'd be hell to pay if Steph ever realized we were gawking at her, but I couldn't take my eyes off the forming hematoma between her breasts. There were small curved marks covering both breasts and along her abdomen, some of which were oozing small amounts of blood. The padre's hands were sure and steady as he palpated the large bruise forming between her breasts. His was bent low over his task, inspecting her injuries. He pulled a piece of dark fabric from underneath one breast.

Father Armando turned and spoke to Ranger. "She put the pouch with the thirteen coins in her bra, apparently for safe keeping, and they did their job. The bullet hit the bag and it worked like Kevlar. The coins took the impact and caused these bruises when they scattered. The thirteen coins saved her life." He turned his attention back to Steph whose moans were turning into small whimpers of pain.

"She needs to be taken to the monastery as quickly as possible. Heart dysrhythmias are not uncommon after an injury like this. She needs to be monitored for a time."

Steph's eyes opened and I heard her call for Ranger in a broken voice. He leaned farther over into her line of vision. The change in him was instantaneous. His name on her lips had brought him back from where ever he was.

"It hurts."

"Shh, Babe. It's okay. We are taking you back to the monastery, but you'll be fine. We're all okay." He bent to lift her and I saw him grimace.

"You've reinjured your shoulder," I told him. "You can't carry her."

Hector stepped forward. "Let me carry her boss. She was my wife first." He bent down and pulled the slit t-shirt to cover as much of Steph as possible and picked her up, cradling her to his chest. The gentleness with which he handled her was at odds with the man who had just taken out two thugs with a hand gun and a hand grenade, but she had that effect on all of us.

Ranger gave Hector a half smile and said, "Mi esposa es su esposa." Together they walked to the path and began the short trek to where Ignacio was waiting.

The padre turned to me and said, "I need you to stay back with me for a few minutes. I imagine Ignacio will take them to the monastery and come back for us. There are others who are trained in first aid, but no one with my expertise. I have duties here and I need you to help me before we ascend the mountain."

"What duties?" I asked.

"Help me find the bodies," he said. I found my own small mag light and we went to search near the explosion I'd seen earlier. We found the remnants of two men. The padre stood over the two bodies and offered a short prayer. He made the sign of the cross over them and turned to me.

"Are there more?" he asked. I nodded and turned to take him back to Montenegro. I could smell the blood and body fluids before I saw him. The body was intact, but the head was virtually gone. Armando repeated his prayer over the body and then turned to me.

"Did you kill this man?" he asked. Again I nodded.

"It's Montenegro," I said. I pulled the ring from my pocket and handed it to him. He took it from me and stared at it for a moment before he put it in the pocket of his robe. I heard a clink as it brushed up against something else in his pocket; something that was not rosary beads. There was more to this Armando guy than I'd first thought. He lifted his hand and placed it on my shoulder. His head was bent and he began saying something that I realized was a prayer. It wasn't in Spanish, so I thought, maybe, Latin. I stood still not knowing what to do, or if I should say anything.

When he finished he looked up at me. "It is a soldier's prayer. I asked God to protect you and watch over you for the work you have to do, and to not let the burden of your work dampen your spirit." I wasn't sure what that meant. I didn't think anyone had ever prayed for me, except my mama, and I was more moved by what had just happened than I'd ever admit. The padre was an okay guy.

"Let's get going," he said. It won't take Ignacio long to get them to the monastery and get back for us. I think she'll be fine, but it's a miracle she's alive." I knew enough to know he meant it when he used the word miracle.

**Stephanie's POV**

"What happened?" I asked Ranger. He was looking down at me with concern evident on his face. Breathing hurt, and moving hurt. I had a vague remembrance of Hector carrying me and then nothing until I found myself sandwiched between two scratchy sheets on a narrow cot. I recognized the scratchiness. I was at the monastery. "I feel like I've been shot."

"You were," Ranger said. "You knocked me out of the way and stepped into a bullet. You're not dead because the bullet hit the coins you had in your bra. It didn't penetrate. The coins saved your life, and I'm not dead because you took a bullet for me."

I was astonished. I'd put the coins in my bra for safekeeping. I looked down but couldn't see if they were still there. The smallest movement sent waves of pain through my chest. I concentrated on what I was feeling. I was feeling a sheet on my back and my front.

"What happened to my shirt?" I asked Ranger. "Am I naked under here?" My voice was rising with each word, and my breathing became rapid and shallow which caused new waves of pain. Ranger stood next to me and ran his hand soothingly through my hair.

"Father Armando cut your shirt off to examine your wound. He found there was no wound, but you are going to be very sore from where the bullet impacted the coins."

"Did Hector carry me here? I think I remember him carrying me."

"Yes, he did. When you were hit the force knocked you into me and we fell. My shoulder wound has reopened. I couldn't carry you."

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yes, it's nothing. Armando will put a new dressing on it as soon as he checks you out." Ranger said.

"What is there to check out?" I asked. "You said the bullet didn't penetrate. Am I hurt seriously?" I was worried, because the pain was seriously bad.

"Armando said the impact of the bullet could cause an abnormal heartbeat. He wants to check it out, but he thinks if you were going to have problems, you'd be having them by now." I was still for a few moments while I tried to assess my heart beat. I couldn't feel anything unusual, except for the burning pain in the middle of my chest. How much worse could it feel if I'd been shot. It occurred to me, Ranger knew. He'd been shot in the chest by Scrog and he was out of the hospital in two days. He had moved slowly at first, but he hadn't complained of the pain. He'd been shot in the shoulder a few days ago and climbed a mountain with total disregard for his injury. I was going to be like him and not complain.

"Help me," I said. "Help me lift up my head so I can look at myself. He gently lifted my head and held the sheet up. I looked down. "Oh my gosh, I'm growing a third breast!"

"She was shot in the chest and she's already feeling good enough to complain," I heard Tank say. He and Father Armando were standing in the door way.

"How are you feeling?" Father Armando asked as he walked toward me. He put two fingers against my neck and held them gently in place for a few seconds. "Your pulse is strong and steady. I can give you something for pain, if you like."

My resolution to be strong and silent waivered. Ranger made the decision for me. "Hector is making arrangements with our pilot. As soon as you say she's good to go, we are going to get to El Vigia. It's time for us to go home."

"I'll give you something for the pain and we will find something for you to wear," Father Armando said. He turned to Ranger and Tank. "You'll need to leave the room, gentlemen." Tank turned and walked out. Ranger stayed where he was. "You too, Carlos." Father Armando said.

"We're married," Ranger said, as if that explained everything. Father Armando stared at him for a moment, and with a grunt of disgust Ranger turned and followed Tank's path out the door. Father busied himself at a table against the wall and then turned toward me with a large hypodermic needle. I was starting to rethink my, make that Ranger's, decision.

Father walked back to my side and said, "This injection will make you sleepy, but it should make your trip bearable." There was a knock at the door and we both looked to see Hector.

"I brought you a t-shirt, Bonita." He held up a black RangeMan t-shirt. Father Armando walked to him and took it from him. He pushed Hector out of the door and closed it, turning the lock.

"You're very popular," he said. "I will help you with your shirt and then I want to talk to you for a moment before I give you the injection." He hesitated He bunched up the t-shirt and lifted my head slightly. He slipped it over my head and he began to talk. "What happened tonight was reminiscent of something that happened when Carlos was here before."

"You mean with Yessi?" I asked.

He lifted my arm and pulled it through the sleeve as he said, "Yes. Has Carlos discussed that with you?"

"We talked about it earlier today," I said in amazement at the realization of everything that had happened on that one day.

"Then you know she died doing the same thing you did," he said. "She stepped in front of Carlos and was shot with a bullet that was meant for him. What happened to you tonight was very difficult for him."

"I hadn't realized the similarity," I said. "I didn't plan it. I don't even remember exactly what I did, but he is my life and I would do anything to keep him safe." Father Armando smiled at me. He reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled something out. He held his hand in front of my face.

He was holding a gold coin in his hand. There was a divot on one edge. "This was lodged under your left breast," he said. "It's the only coin we recovered. I thought you would want it."

I took it from his hand, wincing a little as I rolled to slide it in my skort pocket. There was a small clink as it rubbed against my lucky bullet. I realized Father Armando had pulled the t-shirt on and down my body while we'd been talking. It hadn't been embarrassing at all.

"Stay up on your left hip," he told me. "I'll give you your pain medicine, now."

"Oh," I said. "Oh…ouch!" Could it get any worse? I'd just had a priest dress me, and now he was shoving a needle in my ass. I rolled back into my thinking position, and started to think about going home to Trenton with Ricardo Carlos Manoso as my husband.

"There is something else," Father said. "Tank gave me this." He held up the same obscenely obnoxious ring I'd seen on de Franco's hand the night Ranger had been shot.

"I didn't show it to Carlos," he continued. "When you're safe in Trenton I will go to Tabay and return it to Magda. I will tell her of her son's death. We will recover the men's bodies and prepare them for burial, to the best of our ability. At one time, she was a power hungry woman but I'm thinking the death of her son will have a profound influence on her. She will only know it was DEA agents who killed her son. You're identities will be protected, and I think you will be safe in Trenton. You can tell this to Carlos, but I didn't want him further traumatized by seeing the ring. He has had a hard day, as have you. My prayer is for easier times ahead for both of you."

"Thank you, Father," I murmured. I was feeling relaxed and in much less pain.

There was a knock on the door. Ranger came in and asked Father Armando to look at his shoulder. In the hallway I could hear Tank and Hector arguing over who would carry me to the van. This was my wedding day and even though I didn't remember all of it, I knew I'd never forget it.

**TBC…**


	19. Chapter 19

*****.***.***.**

**Thirteen Coins**

**Chapter Nineteen: Epilogue**

**Stephanie's POV**

Amazingly there was no scar. It had been a month to the day that I'd been shot in Venezuela, and there was no residual scar. I'd had several small lacerations where the edges of the coins had cut into my skin, but they were all healed. And the huge hematoma was nearly gone. I was still a little sore and felt an occasional twinge if I turned the wrong way, but for the most part I was fine. It was a good thing, because I was getting ready to test drive a backless, Victoria's Secret demi-cup, push-up, underwire for the first time since we'd been married. But that would be later on in the day, as other matters were more pressing now.

It was still early, and I hurriedly dressed in my usual outfit of jeans and a stretchy t-shirt. I had lots of things to accomplish before I could come home and get ready for the special celebration Ranger had planned. I didn't know exactly what we were doing, but I was going to be dressed for the occasion, and I had a surprise for Ranger. The problem was keeping the surprise from him until the evening.

Since our return from Venezuela my movements had been closely monitored. Ranger made an effort to spend as much time with me as possible. He'd even partnered with me on a couple of apprehensions for Vinnie. It was just like old times when he was Henry Higgins to my Eliza. The difference was, now when we sat side by side on a stake-out, I didn't have to wonder what it would be like to go home after we caught the skip and slide into bed together. I knew what it was like, and the reality was much better than the fantasy.

I thought it was a knee-jerk reaction to what had happened on the mountainside, but I was constantly being accompanied by either Ranger or a merry man du jour, and I was tolerating it well. I figured Ranger would ease off the close supervision eventually. It had been an entire month without a single disaster and I hoped that signaled the beginning of a new phase in my life. Ranger wasn't taking any chances though, so I had become accustomed to a chaperone on my daily activities.

The problem I had today was finding a way to get to Newark without alerting Ranger of my trip. Connie had helped with the first part of the plan two weeks ago when I had given her the gold coin Father Armando had given me. I was still on mandatory bed rest for my injuries and some flu bug I had picked up in Venezuela, so she had taken the coin to a jewelry store owned by her cousin in Newark. It was the only remaining coin of the thirteen that Ranger had presented to me at our wedding, and I wanted to give it back to him. I'd never seen a ring on Ranger's finger and had decided to make a pendant for him from the coin. It was dented from the impact of the bullet, and that made it even more special. The coins given to me, to show his trust in me, had saved my life. I knew my presentation of that coin as a pendant in lieu of a wedding band would be significant to him. I also knew getting out of RangeMan undetected was impossible.

I was going to have to enlist an ally. Hector was my first choice, but he wasn't available. He had returned late last night from a long overdue visit to his sister in Puerto Rico. I was sure he was on duty today, and I couldn't take him away from his planned assignment without raising Ranger's suspicions. I needed to fly under the RangeMan radar today, and that meant asking Tank for help.

When I walked off the elevator on five, I made my way directly to Ranger's office. He was gone. He hadn't mentioned he would be out of the office when he'd left the apartment earlier in the morning. I turned to go in search of Tank and ran smack into him. He reached out to steady me and handed me a newspaper.

"I was just coming to find you," I told him.

"I was just coming to find you," he replied. "Read this." He pointed to a headline in the morning's edition of _The Times_.

"DEA Denies Involvement," I read aloud. I felt a sense of dread, because both Ranger and Tank had assured me the DEA would take the credit for the murder of Montenegro. If there was any hint of RangeMan involvement, there could be repercussions from the Montenegro-de Franco family. I'd hoped our troubles were over, but maybe not.

I looked up at Tank, and my concern must have shown in my eyes, because he took the paper from me and began to read aloud.

"_The DEA firmly denies any involvement in the recent mass murder of Andres Ruiz Montenegro and several of his associates. The murders occurred near the Montenegro family compound in Merida, Venezuela. Montenegro is the nephew of recently arrested Trenton businessman Jolie de Franco. de Franco was arrested last month after an investigation by the DEA. He is currently awaiting trial on several drug trafficking charges. It was rumored his nephew had taken charge of the family business after de Franco's arrest._

_The body of Montenegro and several other unidentified bodies were found by a group of monks from a near-by mountainside monastery. The DEA has__ sole responsibility for coordinating and pursuing U.S. drug investigations abroad, but the local DEA spokesperson from the Trenton field office consistently denies any DEA involvement in the Venezuelan murders."_

"This is awful," I said to Tank. "I thought the DEA was going to claim credit. Now the family will still be looking for the responsible parties."

"The DEA is taking credit," Tank said. "The more they deny their involvement, the more people will assume they were responsible. That's the way it works. The government never admits responsibility. They can't, but the fact they are adamantly stating they weren't responsible, just makes everyone believe they are." I was still unconvinced.

"Take my word for it," Tank said. "This is what we've been waiting for. Now, why were you looking for me?"

"Where's Ranger?" I asked.

"He's offline today. He said he had some personal business to attend to." Tank replied. "He asked me to make myself available to you if you needed to go out."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't need a babysitter," I said. "I just need some space. I have some personal business of my own. Can you help me get away from here without being tracked?"

"No."

"But I really need to run some personal errands," I said. "I know he is concerned for my safety, but I need some privacy."

"Do these errands you have to run have anything to do with the fact that today is your one month anniversary?" Tank asked.

"Yes," I said. "They do, and I need to keep what I'm doing a secret from Ranger."

"If you leave RangeMan without accompaniment, he will be alerted. Every man here has been given instruction to make sure that doesn't happen. I'll go with you on your errands. I'll give you as much privacy as I can, and no one will say anything if you leave with me. Where do you want to go, and when do you want to leave?"

"I want to leave now, and it won't work for me to go with you. I was going to go to my mom's and get Big Blue out. I can't risk Ranger knowing where I'm going today. It's a surprise."

"I'll disable the GPS on the SUV we take. We'll be offline, and no one will report it to Ranger, because you'll be with me."

"That can be done?" I asked. "I thought the vehicles all had built in trackers. You can disable the GPS?" My brain was on overdrive. This was a skill I could use.

"_I_ can disable all tracking devices," Tank said. "I wouldn't advise you to try it. If you do it incorrectly, it sends an alarm directly to the control room. Meet me in the garage in ten, and I'll be ready to go."

We left exactly ten minutes later. The day was bright with sunshine, and I was excited to be out, even if I did have Tank for company.

"We need to go to the bank first," I told him. "First National, not the bank Ranger uses." We drove in silence to the bank, and as I got out to go inside, Tank opened his door to follow me in.

"There is no need to be my constant shadow," I said. "I'm just going in to close out my account. I'm erasing all traces of Stephanie Plum. I've already given up my apartment, now I'm taking care of the money part."

"It's okay," Tank said. "I won't repeat anything I see or hear today. I'm staying close to you, because I want you to be safe, not because Ranger asked me to. You can trust me."

"Thanks, Tank," I said. As we walked through the door into the bank lobby, I was suddenly very happy to have Tank at my side. Joe Morelli had turned away from the teller's cage and was walking straight toward us. His eyes were downcast, looking at the bank envelope he held in his hand, and he hadn't seen us yet. It was the first time I'd seen him since the meeting at RangeMan before we left to go back to Venezuela. Joe had a physical presence that was imposing. He was tall, well-built and moved with the careless grace of an athlete, and he really was movie star handsome. I felt a little frisson of unease when his eyes traveled up and saw me standing next to Tank. It may have been guilt. I'd told him I wasn't breaking up with him because of my involvement with Ranger, and at the time it was true. But slightly more than twenty-four hours later, I'd married Ranger. I knew that had piled more hurt on Joe, and that was something I'd never wanted to do.

His eyes took me in, and he gave me a small half-smile before turning his gaze toward Tank. They reached out and did a fist-bump man greeting thing. "Did you see the morning paper?" Joe asked him.

"Yes," Tank said.

"I have it on good authority that was just part one," Joe said. "Tomorrow they are going to run a story line about Roy Higgins and his possible betrayal of the DEA. They are going to deny it in such a way as to admit the truth of it, and any local involvement won't be mentioned. That takes both RangeMan and the Trenton PD out of it."

"That's good to hear," Tank said. "Keep me posted, and I'll let you know anything that comes our way." Joe nodded and gave me a quick appraising look before he turned and walked away. He'd done just what he said he'd do. He'd been professional and courteous, but he was never going to be my friend again. I'd told Tank I was erasing all traces of Stephanie Plum, and seeing Joe was evidence that he'd done some erasing as well.

My transaction at the bank was quickly accomplished, and we were back in the SUV in short order. "Now where?" Tank asked.

"Newark," I said. "Martin Rossoli's Jewelry Emporium to be exact."

At Tank's raised eyebrows I said, "Connie's cousin. You said you could keep a secret, so I'll tell you. I'm not getting Ranger a wedding ring. I'm getting him something made especially for him, and I don't want him to know about it before we go out this evening. I didn't want to take a chance of the Burg gossip mill getting wind of what I was doing, so Connie helped me out. I'm getting the gold coin I have made into a pendant for him."

Tank's head swiveled toward me. "You have a coin?" he asked. "One of Ranger's coins?"

"Yes," I said. "Father Armando found it partially embedded in me, uh…under my left breast. He gave it to me, and I've kept it hidden. I knew right away what I was going to do with it. I gave it to Connie, and her cousin made it into a pendant for Ranger to wear." Tank was still swiveling his head back and forth between the road and me. His surprise had me second guessing my plan. "I'm giving it to him in place of a ring. I thought he'd like it."

"He will," Tank said with a certainty that made me relax. "He's been in touch with the padre several times, and the doms have searched the area, but none of the coins could be found. I don't think Armando told him you have the coin. He will be very surprised, and pleased."

The trip to Newark was accomplished in good time. Tank turned to me and said, "What's the address?"

"Can't you just use the GPS?" I asked. He turned and gave me a patient stare.

"Not unless you want someone from the control room to call Ranger, and tell him we're in Newark…at a jewelry store.

I rummaged in my purse and pulled out a slip of paper. "135 Market Street," I told Tank.

We found the jewelry store without benefit of GPS and just as importantly, we found a parking space in front. I handed the ticket Connie had given me to the sales clerk, and she took it into a back room. The man returning with my ticket and a small black box was definitely Connie's cousin. They shared the same bone structure and coloring.

"Stephanie, I'm Martin. I've heard so much about you from Connie," he said extending his hand.

I shook hands and, at his continued stare, blurted out, "It wasn't my fault!" Connie had a big mouth. He looked puzzled for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. He opened the box and held it out for my inspection.

"It's beautiful," I said. The chain was substantial, but not overpowering for the small coin hanging from it.

"It's a very unusual coin," he said. "And quite valuable."

"It's priceless to me," I said.

"Yes," Martin said. "Connie told me it was very important to you sentimentally, but even damaged it is still a valuable piece." His finger ran over the small divot at the edge of the coin where a bullet had struck it. "It's an antique Cuban coin, all gold, and very rare. If it was in good condition I wouldn't have wanted to drill it for a pendant. In excellent condition it would be worth several thousand dollars. It is a 1916 peso and one of the earlier coins minted after Cuba's war for independence. It makes a beautiful pendant."

I picked up the coin, now attached to the chain and looked at it carefully. It was a perfect gift for Ranger, and I felt happy I'd had the thought. "Thank you, Martin. This is beautiful. It's exactly what I wanted." It took most of Stephanie Plum's money to pay for the pendant, but I wanted to give Ranger something from me, and using his money, even though it was now our money, hadn't seemed right. I was happy to pay the price.

We left the jewelry store and headed back to Trenton. "Just one more stop," I told Tank.

When we approached the entrance of Victoria's Secret, Tank held back. "What's wrong?" I chided him? "Don't you want to come in and keep me safe?"

"I'll see you from out here," he said. "I think Ranger would like it better if I didn't see the underwear you were buying." He had a point.

We were almost back from Trenton when my cell phone rang. With delight I saw it was Hector.

"Bueno, mi esposa," I said, getting a laugh of surprise from him.

"Bonita, I want to buy you lunch. I want to tell you about my visit to my sister, which I never would have taken without your prodding. It was a very good visit."

"That would be great," I said. "But I have a babysitter that will have to come. I'm with Tank."  
>"No problem, Chica," Hector said, "but he will have to buy his own lunch."<p>

Twenty minutes later we were sitting at a booth in Shorty's, when Ranger walked in and joined us. He waited a moment for Hector to move, and when it became apparent Hector wasn't moving, he sighed and slid onto the seat across from me, next to Tank.

"Where were you this morning?" He asked. He turned to Tank, "The GPS was off in the SUV."

"I know it was," Tank said. "I had some personal business to attend to, and I asked Stephanie to help me." Ranger gave him a thoughtful look, but said nothing. The rest of the meal was an enjoyable experience, listening to Hector tell of his visit with his sister and then dropping the bombshell she was coming to Trenton for an extended visit with him.

As we stood to leave, Ranger turned to Tank, "I'll take Steph back to Haywood." Tank nodded, and Ranger and I made our way out to the parking lot. As he opened the door for me, he leaned in and kissed my neck. "Looking forward to tonight, Babe?"

"Yes," I said. "But I'd be looking forward to it more if I knew exactly what we were doing."

"Patience, Babe."

Two could play this game. "Are you looking forward to it?" I asked. He leaned toward me and kissed me with a mixture of tenderness and promise.

"Yes," he said. "I am."

"Good, because I've replaced those red pumps and black lace thong I left behind at de Franco's resort. I'm planning on recreating that scene from the hotel room…minus the bullets and the interruption, and by the time we're finished, number five on your list of best sexual experiences might just jump to number one."

My husband was speechless.

**Ranger's POV**

Dios, when she said that, all my blood rushed south, and I was rethinking my plan for the evening with a whole different part of my body. Our honeymoon activities had been limited since our night at the hot springs. Between her injuries and mine, physical intimacy had not been very 'physical', so the images she had conjured up with those words, kept my mind reeling for the first five minutes of the drive back to Haywood. I was hoping Steph would assume I had entered my driving 'zone', but I didn't really think I was fooling her. She had that _'cat that ate the canary'_ look.

On the flight from Venezuela, Stephanie's pain had returned. She had denied it, but I had seen her fighting it. We all had. She had refused another dose of the pain meds Armando had sent with us, claiming it made her nauseous. Shortly after take-off, I had pulled Tank aside for a conference about the details of what had happened on the mountain. I returned my attention to Stephanie and had found that Hector had moved to her side and was gently stroking her hand as they engaged in deep conversation. The act had me seriously rethinking my generous "Mi esposa es su esposa" statement, when I realized that whatever they had been discussing, it had held Stephanie's complete attention and had been distracting her from her pain. As we had gotten closer to the States, she had spiked a fever and had begun having trouble breathing. I had immediately made the decision to land in Miami and secured arrangements for her to be taken directly to a private clinic I frequently used for treating injuries sustained by my men. Stephanie had tried to protest, but the concerned and determined looks on the faces of the three men surrounding her must have been enough to convince her it was useless.

At the clinic, an MRI, chest x-rays, and a physical examination had shown that her sternum had been bruised and cracked, but not broken…just as Armando had already determined. Swelling from the bruising had caused her breathing difficulty, and the fever was from a virus she had picked up along the way. The doctor's suggested treatment had included plenty of bed rest for the next three to four weeks, anti-inflammatories for the pain and swelling, and deep breathing exercises several times a day to prevent pneumonia. I had no trouble at all with the idea of keeping her in bed and promoting those deep breathing exercises through the use of long, carefully orchestrated make-out sessions.

As RangeMan protocol demanded, both Tank and Hector had been given immediate time off for their involvement in the shooting that resulted in the deaths of the suspects. As soon as they had completed their reports concerning the mission, Hector had given Stephanie a quick kiss and a wink, and had taken off to parts unknown. Stephanie and I had decided to remain in Miami for several days, neither of us eager to get back on a plane, or meet the impending Trenton social obligations. Tank had remained also.

I'm still not sure if it was the witnessing of our relationship resolution and quick marriage, or if it was the mission and his time spent at the monastery, but Tank became very introspective in Miami. I had assumed he would have spent his free time hanging out with some of his old army buddies that were on staff there, but he hadn't. Instead, he had left the building early each morning and had returned late each evening. After three days of this, Stephanie had come right out and had asked him what he had been doing while he'd been out.

"Walking on the beach," had been his simple answer.

On the fourth day, Stephanie had asked him to join us for dinner in the apartment. He accepted and had asked if he could bring a date. She had smiled widely at his request and had enthusiastically responded to him with a "yes!"

That was the night we had met Charmaine. While getting dressed that evening, Stephanie had openly speculated as to what Tank's date would be like. He had been happy and close to Lula, before their break-up, and Steph had envisioned someone similar to Lula in personality and style. She couldn't have been more wrong. Charmaine was at least six feet tall. She had an athletic build and broad shoulders. She had long dark hair and a Jamaican accent. During the course of the evening, we had learned that she was a graduate student in business at Miami University and was also in training to make the Olympic U.S Women's Beach Volleyball team; explaining Tank's extensive visits to the beach. Even in our younger days in the Army, I had never seen Tank so attentive and taken with a woman before.

"What are you thinking about?" Stephanie's voice broke into my thoughts.

"Red shoes."

"Oh, that may have been true a few minutes ago, when you had that sexy wolf grin on your face, but now your forehead is creased, and you look all serious."

"Okay, querida. You caught me," I confessed. "I was thinking about Tank and Charmaine. Do you think it's serious?"

"Are you asking as his friend, or are you concerned that your number two will want a transfer to Miami, leaving you high and dry in Trenton?"

"Both."

"Well, I think you should ask him about that."

I looked at Stephanie like she was crazy. "Babe, that's not a conversation_ I_ would have with Tank. That's a conversation_ you_ would have with Tank."

"Are you saying that part of my job at RangeMan, now, is to get inside information on your men and report it to you?"

"No, I'm saying that as my wife, you are the one who keeps up on the social aspects of our friends…and now and then you could choose to share your opinions with me."

"You think I have an opinion on Tank's relationship with Charmaine?"

"Babe, I _know_ you have an opinion on it."

"What's it worth to you?" she bargained.

"Are you looking to make a deal?"

"MmmHmmm," she purred.

I pulled into the garage and parked the car near the elevator. Instead of getting out, I turned to face Stephanie. She was acting very coy and playful. I took her hand and kissed her palm. She was still tender with certain movements, so I slowly kissed my way up her arm and carefully pulled her toward me and into my lap.

"Do I have something in particular you're interested in?" I whispered into her ear. I didn't think I could wait for the red shoes and the thong.

"You know you do," she whispered back in a spicy, suggestive voice and ran her hands through my hair. "It's something I've been dying for all day."

"Is it one of your fantasies that you want to play out?"

"Mmmm, nooope." She put an emphasis on the "p" which carried a very warm puff of air into my ear, and I could have sworn the heat traveled straight to my cock.

I pulled her even closer and ran my hands under her thighs. "Name your price."

"I want you," she whispered as she nibbled along my chin and down my throat.

I found her lips and kissed her deeply. "I want you, too, Babe."

She pulled back slightly from our embrace and teasingly ran a single finger over my lips "No, I want you…" she leaned in for another sensuous kiss…"to tell me where we're going tonight, so I'll know how to dress."

I froze. She had played me and had done it well, but I wasn't without my resources. I pulled out my cell phone and pushed speed dial eight. It picked up after three rings.

"Hello, Carlos?" The voice on the other end of the line answered.

"Yes," I responded. "You told me to call if I had any trouble with her," I continued. "She's trying to ruin my surprise."

"Is she there?"

"Yes."

"Put her on. I'll talk to her."

Stephanie was completely baffled by my actions, and I watched her face carefully as I handed her the phone. "It's for you," I said in all seriousness.

Very hesitantly, she took the phone and put it to her ear. "Hello?" she cautiously spoke.

"Stephanie, this is your mother. What are you doing to poor Carlos? He's trying to give you a nice surprise, and you're ruining it. Honestly, a man like that is hard to find, and you insist on making it difficult for him." Stephanie's eyes went wide and shot me a death glare as her mother continued her rant. "Now, I know it's hard to find something appropriate for any occasion but, if you go with a nice, but modest, black dress, you can't go wrong. Oh, and maybe you should take a sweater, too. I hear it's going to be chilly tonight. And for goodness sake, wear some decent underwear, would you? Those little things you girls consider stylish these days are nothing but scraps of fabric. You'll get a yeast infection from wearing that stuff. In my day, a young woman would never be caught dead wearing…"

"Mom." Stephanie finally jumped in.

"Yes,"

"I got it. You don't have to worry. I promise not to ruin Carlos' surprise."

"Well, okay. Why don't the two of you come over for dinner tomorrow? We can talk about a reception. It's not too late to book the lodge. It's a perfectly nice location and would hold a lot of people. I spoke to Carla Giovichinni and they got some really nice roast beef…

"Mom."

"Yes."

"I'll let you know about tomorrow. I have to go now. Bye."

"Goodbye, dear."

During the entire conversation, Stephanie never took her eyes off me. When she closed the phone, she handed it back to me and slowly slid back into her seat before speaking. "You have my mother on speed dial?" she said incredulously.

"We talked. I thought it might come in handy."

Her voice elevated a few decibels. "You spoke with my mother?"

"It's always important to have good back up for a mission, Babe." I grinned.

Now, she was the one who was speechless. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but nothing escaped except a couple of incoherent syllables.

At seven pm exactly, Stephanie walked out of our bedroom looking like million dollars. She hadn't taken her mother's advice on the dress. There was nothing modest about it. The shoes alone sent my blood pressure up twenty points. She was still a little conscientious about the discoloration of her skin from the bruising, so the dress was cut high and straight across her shoulders in the front, but was completely backless down to her waist. It was sexy as hell.

"Now will you tell me where we're going?" she practically begged.

"Not just yet. It's sort of a two part date."

"Two part?"

"There's dinner, and there's…after."

Stephanie got a smirk on her face. "You don't have to explain the after. I know about the after. I told you earlier, it involves these shoes, and no interruptions."

I pulled her into an embrace. "Yes it does, querida, but I have something special in mind. Can you hold off the questions for just a little while longer? If you can't, I can always call…"

"Please! Not my mother!" She bent to pick up her purse from the coffee table. "Geez, how many times are you going to pull that one on me? What kind of husband uses his mother-in-law to control his wife?"

"A very smart one." I walked us toward the door. "Are you ready?"

I'd made reservations at a small Italian restaurant in Belmar, near the coast. We spent the entire meal sharing food and laughing at some of the reactions we had gotten from people since the news of our marriage had become public. We may have only been married a month, but we already had a lifetime of memories, and sharing them in private moments had become one of the ways we had been able to be safely intimate with each other over the past few weeks.

For dessert, Stephanie ordered an Italian Cheesecake. I thought for sure she would have wanted the cannoli, but she insisted that cannoli didn't hold any appeal to her anymore. Before she was finished, she fished a small box from her purse.

"I have something for you," she shyly murmured. She put the box in front of me on the table, and when I reached for it, she laid her hand over mine to stop me. "I'm sorry that I lost the coins in Venezuela. I know they meant a lot to you and your family. They meant a great deal to me, too. I hope this will make it up to you."

I was stunned. I had no idea that she had been feeling guilty about the coins. I leaned over towards her and took her face in my hands. "Dios, Stephanie, the coins…the coins mean nothing to me except that they are the reason you are alive. They did what my abuela promised. They became one of the most important things I had ever owned, but only because they protected the most important person in my life. They saved your life for me."

She wordlessly nodded her understanding, and with my thumb, I wiped away the few tears she was seemingly unaware had fallen.

I opened the box and closed my eyes in appreciation of its contents.

Stephanie found her voice. "Tank told me you had asked Father Armando to try and find the coins. He had already given me this one the night we left. He said it was one that took the brunt of the impact from the bullet and was lodged against my chest. I had this made for you. The jeweler said the coin was very valuable, but I told him it was priceless." She finished her story with a slight smile then added. "I know I don't tell you this often, but I really do love you. I love you more than I thought would ever be possible for me to love anybody, and I know my life is crazy, and I'm more trouble than I'm worth sometimes, but I..."

I couldn't listen anymore. I pulled her to my lips and kissed her long and hard. "Dios, Babe, I love you. I don't think you will ever know how much. The gift is perfect. This one coin is much more precious to me than all the others. It's the only one I would want." I kissed her one more time and slipped the pendant over my head, dropping it under the collar of my dress shirt so that it could lie next to my heart. When I finished, I discretely took a small box from my own pocket. "At our wedding, when I gave you the bracelet, I promised you I would replace it with a ring."

"I love the bracelet. I'll never take it off." Stephanie's arm was lying across the table, and she fingered the silver charm bracelet with affection.

"Do you remember when we were in Miami, and I went to visit Julie?"

Stephanie laughed. "Yes, you said she let out an eardrum-piercing shriek when you told her about our marriage."

I nodded. "Rachel told me that it was a preteen thing, and that it was a good sign. Apparently Julie shrieks a lot these days. I may have to rethink the idea of her coming to stay with us for an extended period until that passes."

"Not a bad idea. I remember that phase well. Mary Lou and I shrieked over everything. It's much worse when there are two preteens doing it."

"Before I came back to you at RangeMan, I visited several jewelry shops. I wanted to find a ring that would not only replace the bracelet, but also replace the loss of the coins. I have plenty of money, and could have purchased the most expensive ring in any of their stores, but the coins had signified more than my grandparent's wealth. They had symbolized our family's history and my grandparent's long-term commitment, love, and trust in a relationship that had withstood all the obstacles they faced as a married couple. I couldn't find that meaning in any ring I found in any of the stores I entered."

"I understand, Ranger. I really do love the bracelet. It's enough for me."

"When we visited my parents last week, my mother pulled me aside while you were answering the barrage of questions being thrown at you by my siblings. She gave me this." I set the box on the table in front of her and nodded for her to open it.

Stephanie delicately opened the jeweler's box and gasped. "Ranger, they're beautiful!"

"As her only daughter, my mother inherited Abuela's wedding set. "I know we never officially became engaged…"

Stephanie protested. "Yes we did! You asked me to marry you, and I said yes. You didn't drag me down the aisle unconscious."

"Babe, I don't think a two and half hour engagement quite meets the standards of wedding etiquette."

"Ranger, nothing we have done in this relationship has met any standards of etiquette. But it's our relationship, not Emily Post's or my mother's. Except for the getting shot part, I wouldn't have changed anything about that day."

I took the rings out of the box. "Stephanie, will you wear my grandmother's rings?"

"Yes!" she cried, wiping away a few more tears. "They're amazing, and you're right, they mean so much more than anything you could have bought at a store. I love them."

I slipped the rings onto her left hand and brought them to my lips, but didn't stop there. I kissed my way up her arm, and then her neck, and finally made it to her lips. We were lost in each other and only stopped when our waiter cleared his throat. "Is there anything else I can do for you this evening sir?"

"Why does everyone want to interrupt us when we're kissing?" Stephanie sighed.

I waved off the waiter. "Perhaps we should move on to the 'after' part of the date." I whispered into her ear.

"Now, do I get to know where we're going?"

"I rented a house at Point Pleasant for the week. I plan to give you a suitable honeymoon, and I didn't think you wanted to board another plane to do it, so I chose something a little closer to home."

"It sounds perfect, but…" She looked confused, and I knew what was bothering her.

"I had Ella pack for you. The suitcases are in the trunk of the car."

She still hesitated. "I need to go to the restroom before we leave. I…I have to change."

"Don't change, querida, I love your dress. We're not far from the house," I kissed her and gave her a sly grin, "and I will be more than happy to help you remove all of your clothes."

She was turning three shades of red, and I still didn't understand her problem. "I don't want to change my dress…I need to change…something else." When my look of confusion continued, she dropped her shoulders and let out a heavy sigh. "I need to change my panties." She quickly whispered confidentially. "I was mad at you for calling my mother, so I put on a pair of granny panties to teach you a lesson, but at the last minute I thought I might change my mind, and I put the black thong in my purse. I don't want you to see the granny panties, now. They're awful and ugly, and I feel stupid for wearing them in the first place."

I couldn't help but laugh, and the more I thought about it, the more comical it seemed.

At first Stephanie didn't appreciate my amusement at her expense, but I think the longer she thought about it, the funnier it became to her as well, and she finally broke a smile. "Stop it," she said, as she slapped my arm. "You're making fun of me."

I stood and pulled her to her feet, wrapping her in my arms. "Don't you dare change a thing, querida. I love you, and I love your granny panties." I grabbed her purse off the table and peeked inside. "We'll save the black thong for later."

End.

_**A/N: This has been the best writing experience of my life. Throughout this story I would receive a chapter from my writing partner and be so excited to open the email and read. The chapter would be so good; I would immediately begin to write in response trying hard to maintain her level of excellence. I had the double benefit of being a writer and a reader of the same story. It is a unique perspective…and it was a true collaboration. We have been writing this book for about eight months and I will miss the chapter exchanges.**_

_**I won't miss the emailing back and forth, because we won't be ending that. We've gone from AlmostCompleteStrangers to best friends we've never known. Thank you for all the reviews and PM's we received throughout the posting. So latetolove…thanks for the fun!**_

_**Sonomom.**_

_**Author's Note #2: I can't tell you what a privilege it has been to co-write this piece of fanfiction with Cathy. It was extraordinary to be part of the energy this story generated from our very supportive readers and reviewers. The entire experience was humbling, educational and fulfilling. We most definitely will be back with another exploration into the world of Stephanie Plum.**_

_**Latetolove**_


End file.
